She Knew Him When
by Logue
Summary: In Shane Pierce's opinion, the Wellington's were completely overrated. Over the course of several years, however, their youngest daughter gives him more than a little to think about. Shane/OC. Leads up to and past events on Harper's Island show.
1. Shane Age Six

_Disclaimer_: **Harper's Island** and the characters are not my property nor my creations. They belong to and are copyrighted by CBS. Sarah Wellington, however, is mine all mine and I'm delighted to claim her as such. Feel free to consider her a Mary Sue if you want, it won't bother me. But give the girl a chance-you're going to love her!

_Secondary disclaimer_: **For those who are re-reading this story, I have changed the ages of Sarah and the other characters. Go me the novice fanfic writer! It took getting to the fourth chapeter of this story to realize it was going to take forever for things to progress is Sarah was so much younger. Thus the change. Instead of a seven yeard difference between Sarah and Shane, it's now just over three.**

**She Knew Him When...**

He could remember the first time he saw her.

There wasn't anything remarkable about the day; it was June, hot. It was like any other day during the summer-boring and predictable.

Aside from home and school, his Dad's boat, the _Pride and Joy_, was where most of his time was spent. That day was no exception, and he'd been long at work on some torn netting when it happened.

He'd been moving mechanically at that point, bored to tears when Thomas Wellington and his family made their annual descent onto the Island.

His six year old eyes blinked a few times, squinting as the sun hit them when they looked up at the commotion. Diana Wellington moved past with the eldest, Shea, barely taking note of the stir their arrival had caused. Trish Wellington wasn't far behind. She laughed gaily as a weedy boy about his own age stepped onto the dock further down.

Blue met blue as his eyes rolled heavenward.

Henry Dunn was such a looser.

And watching Trish run down towards the other boy, he decided she was an even bigger one for thinking Henry was anything special.

Summer kids. Sheesh.

A smirk made its way across his lips before he could stop it, but the nudge to his shoulder quickly brought him back to earth.

"You'll be here for supper at the rate you're goin'." His father's tone was mild despite the rebuke. He nodded towards the forgotten netting. "Focus, boy. Then you can go with the others."

Oh, yeah. _The others_. He barely managed to hide a second eye-roll. As if that's what he wanted to do.

"Yessir," he mumbled. His eyes darted downwards to the work at hand. But they moved back up when a pair of smooth looking leather shoes stepped into his line of sight. They shifted a little as if they were bearing extra weight.

"Max." Thomas Wellington had stopped in front of his father's boat. His eyes inspected _Pride and Joy _with detached interest before shifting his weight once more. "I don't suppose you have any hands you can spare the next few weeks? I'll be happy make it worth their while-and yours."

He'd seen his father's mouth open to decline, but quickly stop at the mention of compensation.

Typical.

"I think we can." He forced a smile at his son while his eyes ordered him to not stir up any hornet's nests. "We'll manage just fine. _Won't we, son_?"

"Sure, Dad," he agreed, voice sullen. His eyes drew back to the taller figure of Thomas "I-can-buy-anything-I-want" Wellington and paused in their angry perusal.

He was holding a very young girl.

No wonder he'd been moving around. Though for a while he thought maybe it had been caused by that stick up his-

"-as always. It's so nice to see the little one finally joining your family on the Island, sir!" His father was saying, voice more jovial. His salt and pepper hair moved as he nodded fervently. "Children are such a blessing."

A more genuine smile touched the steel of Thomas Wellington's eyes as he looked at his youngest daughter.

"Her name is Sarah," he said proudly. "Named after my mother."

"She's pretty." He said it without thinking, really. Because while his old man had been yammering about children being a blessing, he'd been examining the youngest of the Wellington clan. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a very stern expression.

Pretty much a chip off of the old Wellington block.

But were children supposed to look that serious? He wondered. Maybe it was him True, she didn't _seem_ bothered by his hard stare. If anything, she was eyeing him just as curiously.

"Thank you, ah…" there was a searching quality to his tone.

Thomas Wellington had no idea who he was, he realized. It may have ticked him off a little, but the sudden movement of child's chubby arms distracted him from his train of thought as his father supplied his name.

"Shane, sir. Me and my wife's only." A line drew itself between Wellington's eyes before he nodded.

"You helped Henry and the other boy, what's his name-"

"Jimmy," Shane said curtly.

"Yes, James. You helped with the boat last summer." His eyes flicked to his Dad once more and threw out, "He can help out again if he wants to earn a little pocket money."

"Yeah, lots of places to go spending money around here," Shane muttered. He ignored the hard look his father sent him as he turned back to the netting.

"He'll be glad to, sir." Max answered, eyeing his son coolly. "Anything you need, he'll be happy to be of assistance."

"But Dad-" Shane shot up in protest. His fists clenched angrily around the net, thinking of how the time with his friends would be cut short.

"'But Dad' nothing!" Max hissed. "You could use the extra discipline. Maybe then you'll learn to stop shooting your mouth off whenever you feel like it."

Shane's mouth closed into a thin line and he tossed the netting over the bench he'd been sitting on.

Either oblivious to the mini-family drama or simply not caring, Thomas Wellington gave a vague nod in their direction.

"Good, good. Tomorrow then. Say eight? I want to take my girls sailing before noon."

He was turning on his heel to leave, Shane's black look bouncing between him and his Dad when it hit him.

Literally.

His hands reached out to stop the object from hitting him in the face, and in the process dropped his reclaimed netting into the water before he could stop it With a frustrated sigh he glared at the tiny stuffed rabbit the youngest Wellington had thrown at him.

"Pain in the ass," he swore, lobbing it down to the boat's deck. A stray brown wave fell over one eye as he looked down the dock at the little dark haired assassin.

She was laughing.

"Pain in the ass!" he repeated, sliding down against the side. The rest of the Wellingtons were bad enough. But that one? That kid was going to drive him insane.

And unfortunately, he had no idea how true that would be.


	2. Sarah Age Nine, Shane Age Thirteen

_Disclaimer_: Same as in Chapter 1. Enjoy!

**She Knew Him When ...**

"Shane Pierce, you're a big, fat jerk!"

Body swiveling from where she'd been skipping rocks since lunch, Sarah Wellington looked up towards the sound of her older sister's voice. She didn't have to search long as three teenagers crashed through the woods, irritation lacing the air around them.

The girl, Sarah knew as her older sister. "Terrific Trish" Shea jokingly dubbed her. And being that she was "terrific" in every sense of the word, who was going to argue with it?

With her shoulder-length mahogany curls and light steps, she chased after the other two boys who were obviously picking on one another.

One was short, wearing the gawkiness that came with early adolescence. More than likely he always would. He was throwing snide comments at the other boy, who was managing to keep a good distance ahead. Tall, already bulky for his age with sandy hair and a strong, hard jaw, he turned at the sound of her sister's voice to give her a withering look.

"One, anyone's bigger than you, Trish. Two, it's called MUSCLE-"

A snort of laughter erupted from the shorter, dark-haired boy. Towering over him, the other boy glowered, then shoved him. Hard.

"Go ahead, J.D. Laugh it up. I can add a fat lip to that black eye."

"Like to see you try, Shane!" J.D. taunted, his wiry frame easily ducking as the taller boy swung at him.

"Henry!" Trish shouted. Her dark curls bounced as she jumped back, and out of the way of the brawl. "Jimmy!"

The two boys quickly appeared with another girl, slighter and pale despite the constant sunshine. Sarah squinted at the group, her boredom quickly forgotten as the tension mounted.

But then, things were always tense when Shane and J.D. were around one another. Or Shane and anyone for that matter.

Anxiously dancing on her toes as the scene unfolded, Sarah wanted to call to them. But she didn't want to risk the patronizing looks or the annoyed sighs that always followed when she showed up with Trish.

"Come on, J.D.," Henry grabbed his younger brother's arm, pulling him back. His voice was quiet as he spoke again. "It's not worth it."

"That's right, J.D.," Shane jeered. His lips twisted into a smirk. "It's not worth getting into a fight you can't win."

"Don't think so, island boy?" J.D. shouted over Henry's shoulder, nearly jumping up to be seen as Jimmy moved in front of Shane.

"Know so, summer kid," he spat. "You don't know these woods like I do. I could find you in my sleep-in the dark-and _still_ kick your ass!"

"Yeah, well last I counted I have four friends willing to back me up. How many do you have?"

Shane's face visibly tightened and though his stance seemed to relax, without warning he lunged forward, beyond Jimmy and past Henry as he slammed into J.D. The two went down, fists flying.

"Shane, stop it!" Abby Mills was shouting at the older boy as Henry and Jimmy tried to wrestle the two apart. "You're hurting him!"

"Good!" Shane's snarled. "Freak punk-oomph!"

"That's enough!" Jimmy shouted, gripping his friend around the waist, pulling hard. His hair fell in his face, making it hard for him to see. "Damnit, Shane, stop!"

"J.D.!" Henry sounded angry as he yanked his younger brother back, shoving him past Trish and Abby. "Come on, man! You want mom and dad to freak out when they see you covered in scrapes, bruises, and God knows what else?"

J.D. didn't answer, but glared at Shane. He wiped a smear of blood away from his mouth, then spat on the ground.

"You can get cleaned up at my house," Abby offered softly. Henry threw her a grateful look. "Mom's playing canasta with a few ladies from the church. And Dad's…"

"At work," Trish said ruefully. "That's a great idea. Henry?"

"Just a minute," he said, raising his finger. He walked closer to Jimmy, but not one step nearer to Shane. He seemed to want to keep his distance. "You don't touch my brother again, you got it? You have a problem with us-deal. Because we're here for the summer-every summer. So get over it or find a new hobby, because whatever this thing is? It's getting old, Shane. Real old."

Shane sniffed as he touched his mouth gingerly.

"Whatever. No, don't, Jimmy," he pushed his friends hand away. "I'm done here. I'm gone."

"Good." Jimmy looked back at Abby, carefully backing away. "Go cool off, Shane. I'll see you later."

The older boy didn't reply as he stalked off, leaving the others feeling drained from the fight.

"Is J.D. allright?"

Trish whirled, surprised to see her younger sister there.

"Sarah!" she exclaimed, hugging her. "Don't tell me you saw all that?"

"I was down there," she replied, looking down at the stream. "That happens a lot, doesn't it?"

"With guys like Shane around, yeah." Henry moved closer, his mouth in a tense line. "Unfortunately."

"Henry." Trish's voice was a soft warning. Catching it, he sighed.

"Don't worry about it, Sarah. J.D.'s fine. He comes from good, strong Dunn stock!" He finished his exclamation striking a strong-man pose. "Grr."

Sarah laughed at his antics while Trish smiled fondly. Pleased, Henry let out his own laugh and joined them, looking down to Sarah.

"Shane's not a good person," he told her. "He likes to pick on people because it makes him feel good inside. I don't know why. But if you remember what bad people are like, as you grow up, you'll be able to separate the Pierce's of the worlds, from-"

"From the Dunn's," Trish finished, making Henry smile at her.

"Couldn't have said it better myself." He then tweaked Sarah's nose as he moved past the sisters. Trish looked at him quickly then back at her younger sister.

"Don't forget." She laid a gentle hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Daddy wants us back at the Candlewick for dinner at six."

Folding up her left arm towards her chest, Sarah pointed to the silver and blue face of her watch.

"I set the alarm this morning. I'll be back by 5:30."

"Ok. Great." Trish smiled brightly over her shoulder at Henry. He was waiting patiently by a heavily knotted tree. A warmth seemed to fill his eyes as he looked back at her. Jimmy and Abby had already run off in J.D.'s direction, leaving just the three of them.

Turning back around, Trish's hand brushed down Sarah's arm, taking her hand to squeeze it as she started back. "I'll see you then. And please, please don't get into trouble. You know how worried Daddy gets about you running around by yourself. Besides, I don't want anything happening to my favorite little sister."

"Yeah. I know." Sarah licked her lips quickly, pushing her hair behind her ears. "But you know, I wouldn't be running off by myself if I could come with you guys."

"You'd be bored," Trish laughed as she reached Henry's side. They shared a look. "Trust me, Sarah. We're not doing anything exciting. Maybe when you're a little older-" Her voice broke off with a squeal as Henry tickled her.

"Hey Sarah," he said, all dark eyes and hair, friendly and benign as he gave her an easy smile. "There's a campfire tomorrow night near the bluffs. Sherriff Mills promised ghost stories and Abby's mom always brings s'mores. They're killer. You can hang out with us then. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," she echoed softly, returning his smile a little shyly. Henry's smile broadened and he nudged Trish down the path a ways.

"Cool." Trish gave her a quick wave as Henry threw back at her, "Be good!"

Sarah waved at their retreating figures, listening to the two chatter as they ran to catch up with their friends.

"…so good with her."

"Yeah, well, as you've seen, I know what it's like to have a younger sibling."

Sarah looked after them wistfully, wanting to go with them, but when she glanced down at her watch, she knew she'd wasted enough time wishing and whining to herself. She'd go find her own fun. Just like she did every summer.

Cheering up at the thought of a new adventure, Sarah took off in her sneakers, running through a well-used trail. She jumped over logs that were suddenly fire-breathing dragons and ducked under branches that became the gnarled hands of wicked witches, itching to catch her by her long, dark hair.

She played for hours and was so caught up she didn't even hear the other person coming until they bowled right into one another, knocking each other flat onto the forest floor.

There was a moment of utter stillness, then a violent rush of movement to her left.

Sarah had to take a few deep breaths as she rolled over. She'd landed hard-harder than the time she'd belly-flopped at the pool. Inhaling sharply as she pushed herself into a sitting position, she could hear the other person muttering angrily. Her eyes blinked rapidly to rid themselves of tears. Her hands were hurting.

"Jesus H.- watch where you're going!"

"I'm sorry." Sarah started to apologize as she carefully brushed damp earth from her jeans with the back of her hands. Then she began taking in her scraped palms. There were cuts, and they were starting to bleed.

"Ah, hell."

Sarah stopped her inspection and stared up into the very sour face of one Shane Pierce.

"Should have known it was you."

"I said I was _sorry_," she repeated more firmly. Her fingers flexed around her palms as she stood up. They were really starting to sting. "I was playing-"

"Like I care." Shane picked up the hat he'd dropped and pulled it over his hair. "Get lost, menace."

"I am not a menace!" Sarah snapped, annoyed that her eyes were filling with tears once more. "But my sister and Henry are right about you. You _are_ a big, fat jerk and you're bad!"

Unexpectedly, Shane's bruised lips parted in a true grin. It almost made him look friendly. Almost.

"Whatever, kid. You look like a mess, you know that?"

Sarah bit her lip in response. She could only imagine how she looked. But her injured pride and hands temporarily left her silent.

"Hello? Princess, you in there?" A large hand waved itself in front of her face, startling Sarah.

"I hurt my hands," she answered, holding them out for him to see.

Breathing loudly through his nose, the much taller boy turned around to leave.

"Well, boo hoo. Go cry to Daddy," Shane tossed over his shoulder. He was brushing leaves from his shirt as he walked on. "You've made me late for work. My dad's gonna be pissed."

"I didn't mean to run into you. But I can't go back yet." Sarah ran to catch up with him. Her breath coming out in soft pants as he tried to evade her. "I promised I wouldn't be so-"

"Stupid?"

"Careless," Sarah frowned up at him as he stopped abruptly. Shane looked as if he were going to say something, but he took a hard look at her and seemed to change his mind. Instead he nodded his head over his shoulder. It was a terse, jerky movement.

"We have a first-aid kit on the boat. You can clean up there."

"Thank you," Sarah mumbled.

Shane didn't comment, but walked on in stony silence down the path to the marina. He took long, easy strides that she had to keep up with, but she did it quietly. One of the boat houses came into view, letting them know they were almost to their destination when Shane glanced at her over his shoulder.

"You sure you're a Wellington, kid?"

"I don't understand," Sarah replied, her face clearly showing her puzzlement. Shane shrugged as he grabbed a nearby basket and anchored it on his hip.

"I mean, you're just as annoying, don't get me wrong. But your mom and sisters, they act, you know, like _girls_. Dress like 'em, too." His look in her direction spoke volumes. From the top of her tousled head to her scuffed up feet, she didn't exactly fit the typical Wellington mold. "They're more…refined."

"Oh. That." Sarah understood quickly, sidestepping some rope as the _Pride and Joy _came into view. "Mother says I'm too high-spirited to wear the clothes she used to buy me. I'd ruin them really quickly and it would get Daddy upset, so I don't wear the nice clothes unless it's necessary. Mother told me that I shouldn't worry about it, I should enjoy myself and live life!" A small smile touched her lips and she shrugged. "Shea says I'll grow out of it when I'm older. Whatever that means."

"It means you're not a lost cause," Shane translated, his tone dry. "One day the duck will become a frickin' swan."

"I'm not ugly!" Sarah shouted, clearly understanding the implication. After all, what moron didn't know the story of the Ugly Duckling. She stomped her feet against the dock angrily. "You take that back, Shane. You take that back right now!"

Surprised by the burst of temper, the older boy slowed his stride and turned to peer down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Look, kid, don't get all bent out of shape. I didn't say you were beat over the head with the ugly stick. I'm just saying you're not like your sisters, that's all. Or your mom. It's not necessarily a bad thing." The corner's of his mouth twitched a little. "Even if you are still a menace to yourself and others."

Sarah's mouth fell open to protest, but he was already walking away, laughing.

"Where is your mom anyway?" he asked when she caught up. He stepped onto his Dad's boat smoothly, taking her elbow to help her on. He squinted up into the sun as he gauged the time. "Haven't seen her yet this summer. She go on a cruise around the world or something?"

Sarah's expression clouded over as she was seated on a small chair.

"Mother's sick."

Rummaging through a bench, Shane nodded absently. Kicking the basket aside, he moved onto the next one, finding the elusive object.

"Yeah, my mom had the flu a few weeks back. Summer bugs suck." He stood back up with the first-aid kit in his hands. "But she got better. She's back to ragging on my dad and me to keep the business going."

"My mom isn't going to get better."

Shane's breath hitched sharply, the softly spoken words catching him off guard. He fiddled with the kit a little awkwardly before sitting down in front of her. Silently he took out the items needed for her to clean her hands, then shook his head.

"I'll do it," he snapped, when she reached for the peroxide. "You just…just sit."

There was nothing but the soft lapping of the water against the boat and the occasional murmur of conversation from passing fishermen as Shane cleaned out Sarah's wounds.

She was surprised at how careful he was being. The peroxide felt worse than a hornet's sting, but her pain was eased by the fact that he was being very gentle.

His face was intense as he finished, carefully wrapping her palms with gauze before taping them closed. Running a hand over his head, his hat came off, exposing his sandy waves and a bruise from the earlier fight.

"Sorry about your mom." Sarah looked up at him in surprise. He shrugged, looking down at the knit hat in his hands as he turned it around. "That sucks, too."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. "It sucks."

A bark of laughter erupted before he could stop it. Shane shook his head, offering the younger girl a water before moving to sit down beside her to look at the horizon.

"It'll be ok, Sarah. Things will be bad for a while, and you and your sisters will still be annoying as all hell," he smirked at the severe frown on her young face. "But it'll be ok. Eventually."

Sarah looked back up at him. He was thirteen, angry at everything it seemed, and most everyone said he was a bad person. But for some reason he was being nice to her. Could a genuinely bad person be this thoughtful? Shane Pierce, she decided then, was a very strange, unpredictable boy. And that was ok. Not bad.

Her eyes drifted back to the water and she closed them, inhaling deeply, taking in the salty air. She enjoyed the soothing movements as the boat rocked, and in that moment agreed that things would be all right.

She swallowed hard. They just had to be.

"Thanks, Shane," she sniffed, wipping at her eyes as they opened.

A hand patted her head softly, rubbing the hair on top.

"Sure thing, kid. Sure thing."


	3. Sarah Age Sixteen, Shane Age Twenty

_**Disclaime**_**r: Same as previous chapters.**

_**Authors Note**_**: The actual plot from **_**Harper's Island **_**begins to show itself this chapter in the form of John Wakefield's original rampage. You can expect to see more canon in both story and character from here on out, and I'll do my best to do them justice. I'm counting on all of you to let me know how I do. **

**I want to thank my two kind reviewers as well as those who have simply stopped by to read my story. It would be nice to have a bit more input, but if you're simply enjoying yourself, that's fantastic. That's why it's being written.**

**In part.**

**Shane and Sarah are both insistent that their story be told, and between the two of them, there's plenty to be said. Particularly by Shane. Shocker, right? But enough of this, let's get on with the story. **

**Enjoy!**

**She Knew Him When …**

"It's so weird. You've been here a whole summer without Trish."

"Poor Henry."

"Poor Henry," Abby echoed softly.

"Well, what can I say?" Sarah tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. "All the legal Wellingtons have flown the coop and you know Daddy. He's a stickler for tradition."

"And holding fast to the baby of the family." Abby grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement as the other girl made a face. "It's not really summer on the island until the Wellington's make land. You can set a watch by your Dad's immediateness."

"Is that right? Immediateness? That's a big word," Sarah teased. "Pick that up studying for your SAT's?"

"Yep," Abby responded airily. She tugged on the zipper of her navy jacket. "It may come in handy in college next fall. I hear being a writer calls for knowing a few big words."

"God. Talk about weird. You're all going to be in college."

"But coming back in the summer," the older girl assured her. She placed two fingers across her breast and grinned. "Scout's honor. Besides, we're not all going to be leaving."

"No?"

"Nope."

Abby's ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head.

"Jimmy?"

"Jimmy."

"He's staying?"

"Fishing's in his blood," Abby replied. She looked towards the line of trees closest to the marina, voice growing distant as she added, "Not unlike most people who grow up here. He wants his own boat someday..."

Sarah stared at Abby, wondering what was passing through her mind. Smiling quickly she waved off any concern.

"We'll make it work."

"Of course you will," Sarah agreed as they linked arms. "Henry and Trish are at two different colleges and they're still going strong."

Something in Abby's posture seemed to relax and she nodded.

"That they are. And you're right," she continued. "Things will be fine. Distance doesn't have to change things."

"No, it doesn't."

Shoes scuffed against the pavement as they walked through town. In the early morning, their movements and words seemed to break the peaceful silence. The sun was bright although it was doing little to warm at that point in the day. Both girls were still bundled up in their sweaters and jeans, but this was typical of island mornings as fall approached.

Taking in the kind smiles and friendly waves as neighbors opened their stores, Sarah wondered what it would be like to live on Harper's Island as a resident, and not a temporary guest.

The little fishing community seemed to thrive despite the small population. People left their doors unlocked, everyone knew who you were when you walked down the street or into one of the small restaurants. Disputes were small, laughter loud, and people seemed content. It was safe, mapped with good memories of generations past.

Harper's Island was a haven away from the rest of the world.

Why would Abby want to leave it all? Sarah wondered idly. What wasn't there to love about this place?

"I don't know about you," Abby blurted, startling Sarah from her thoughts. "But I'm freezing."

"I thought native's were supposed to be able to tough this kind of weather out," Sarah joked, blue eyes dancing.

"Maybe I'm not really a native," Abby joked back. She rubbed her hands together as she tried to ward off the cold. "Miss Betty's shop just opened. Tea?"

"Hot chocolate, please."

"Got it. I'll be right back."

Abby waved to the owner, Betty Chapel, as she approached the door, speaking to her with a cheerful smile on her face. It faltered a little as her father and one of his deputies arrived. Apparently they were feeling the bite of early morning as well.

Leaning against an old lamp post, Sarah hid her laughter as Abby attempted to extricate herself from her dad. But Sheriff Charlie Mills wasn't having any of it that morning. Clearly she wasn't the only one with an over-protective father.

"Makes me wanna gag."

Recognizing the gruff voice before she even saw him, Sarah tilted her head sideways.

"Shane." He raised a sandy eyebrow in greeting. "Don't you have children to torment or something?"

"Or something."

" Witty."

"Whatever."

He looked as if he'd just woken up. Judging by his wrinkled clothes, unruly hair, and the stubble darkening his face, he probably had. "Aren't you going back to the big city today?"

"You're not trying to get rid of me so soon are you?" Sarah smiled sweetly at him.

"If I had a catapult I'd use it to toss your scrawny butt back to the mainland."

"Ouch."

Shane grinned, tugging on a strand of dark hair. "You love me."

"Now that makes _me _want to gag."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You wish you could be so lucky."

Sarah didn't bother to disguise her laughter this time. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Shane yawned loudly.

"So what's with the urgency in cutting out a week early? Daddy herding you back to Chez Wellington for a big birthday party?"

"Something like that."

While it was partly true, Sarah didn't feel like elaborating that her Father was also preparing to go on a business trip with his fiancée, Katherine.

Business trip. To Acapulco. Right. How naïve did he think she was? She did have two older sisters that were in relationships.

"…seventeenth birthday?"

"Mmm?"

Sarah pushed her other thoughts aside as Shane cleaned sunglasses against his thermal, putting them atop his head as he gave her a look.

"I boring you, Princess? I asked you what you think you're getting for your birthday. Stocks? Bonds? Baseball team?" His voice was heavy with mockery.

"I prefer football, thanks." She looked over to see Abby heading towards them with their drinks, her father and deputy gone.

"My bad. So really, though. What's the best gift for a seventeen year old in your world?"

"My world?"

"Yeah." Shane scratched at his jaw absently. "You know the one outside of this God forsaken island. Not all of us think living on this rock is 'quaint' you know." He made quotes with his fingers, when she looked at him with surprise.

Considering his question, Sarah pursed her lips, then smiled.

"A car."

"Oh, hell no!" The dismay on his face was evident. "On what planet is letting you behind the wheel of a two-ton vehicle a good thing?"

"I'm a very good driver!" Sarah exclaimed, protesting even as Shane scoffed.

"Tell that to the car you sank in the lake behind the church."

"That was a golf cart, not a car, and it wasn't my fault."

"Car, cart, potato, potato. You were driving it," Shane's pointer finger wiggled in her face. "Your fault, kid. Nearly ran Reverend Fain off the road, too," he continued, a gleam in his eyes.

"Which, if I recall, you thought was pretty darn funny."

"Would've been funnier if you'd hit J.D. instead of swerving," Shane remarked mildly. "Put him out of his misery-and ours." He ignored the dirty look thrown at him. "Still, getting to hear you explain to the good Sheriff just why you were driving like a bat out of hell? Now _that _was funny. And to think I almost missed it for a rendezvous with Kelly Seaver."

"Ugh." Sarah's lip curled in distaste. At the same time a flush crept up into her face as she remembered how mortified she'd been when her father had to pick her up at the station. He'd been so angry. The visits to the island almost became non-existent because of it. Thankfully, he'd reconsidered.

"Can you go away now?"

"Sure thing." Then he leaned down a little. "But not because you want me to."

Sarah smiled faintly. "Whatever you say, Shane."

"I'm going because I have work to do." He flexed his hands, cracking his neck before he slid his glasses over his eyes.

"Good-bye, Shane," Abby sang as she walked up.

"Was I talking to you?" He shook his head slowly. "Nuh-uh."

Abby handed Sarah her drink, glaring at Shane as he swaggered off towards the marina.

"He's such a creep," Abby grimaced, facing Sarah once again. "Sorry if you've been scarred for life," she said apologetically.

"He's not that bad," Sarah replied as she glanced at his retreating form.

"Ok, then you were obviously talking to a different Shane Pierce that lives on the island," Abby laughed. "Walk with me to Nikki's?"

"Sure. Do you two have plans for tonight?"

"Mayyybe." Abby drew the word out slowly, as if something else were weighing on her mind. Sipping her hot drink she tilted her head, considering. "While we're on the way, why don't you tell me all about how excited you are about becoming an Aunt. "

Sarah smiled brightly.

"Sounds good."

************************************************************************

Thomas Wellington looked down at his phone, eyes narrowing in irritation.

His son-in-law made his eldest daughter happy, he knew this to be true. But Richard Allen was far from a shining star within his real estate company. Case in point, the phone call he'd been dreading. Flipping the cell open he snapped into the receiver.

"I'm here," he answered tersely. "No. I can talk. Just give me a moment. Sweetheart?"

Placing the open phone against his chest to muffle their conversation, Thomas Wellington smiled affectionately at his youngest child.

"Yes, Daddy?" Sarah looked up from where she'd been reading.

"Why don't you head down to the docks. I have to take this call," he gestured to the phone. "I'll only be a minute."

"All right." Sarah gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

Making sure the door was secure behind him, Thomas put the phone back to his ear, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

"What the hell has Richard done now?"

************************************************************************

Sarah was almost to the marina when she heard the yelling. Her steps eased up near a group of locals, also curious about the commotion ahead.

It was then that everything exploded.

If the forced hadn't knocked her down, the frantic rush of people would have. Blinking rapidly, she stared up at the fire mutely. It was everywhere. And there was so much yelling and shouting.

It took a full minute for the more primitive of instincts to kick in and she found herself running away from the heat and smoke like everyone else. She didn't even know how far she'd run until she came to a decrepit old shed.

Without thinking she ran inside, slamming the door behind her. She stood there, heart pounding.

Now what? Why had she run here? _Where_ was here? And what had happened at the marina?

Taking a few deep breaths, Sarah gripped the edges of her green sweater and wet her lips. She couldn't stay. Her father would be worried. He didn't know where she was. And she…and she…

And she **what**?

Blind panic had completely caused her mind to blank and she'd run off without even stopping to think.

"Snap out of it!" she hissed, closing her eyes tightly to regain her bearings. Her eyes reopened after a few moments and feeling calmer, she made her way towards the door. She was going to head back to the marina and find her father. Sheriff Mills. Shane.

Anyone.

She began to turn the knob, but froze as leaves quietly rustled from the other side.

Sarah didn't know exactly why, but the same instincts that urged her to flee the dockes were now screaming at her to remain silent and still. There was something about the noise, something sneaky, furtive. As if whatever-whoever-was making it didn't want to be heard.

It caused a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, and with painful slowness, Sarah let go of the knob and stepped backwards into the shadows of the shed. Her breath hitched when a branch snapped near the door.

"Go away," she whispered. Her heart began to race when the knob turned with deliberate care from the other side. "Please go away."

"Sarah!"

The knob snapped back into place with an audible click, feet crashing through leaves and brush as the person ran off. Exhaling loudly, Sarah waited only a moment more before bursting out of the shed, screaming when a pair of arms caught her.

"Let go!"

"Hey, Sarah! Sarah! _Stop it_!" The voice sounded familiar, but it was the tattoo's scrolling down his arms that made her stop fighting. Sinking back into his chest, she couldn't stop the uncontrollable shaking from over taking her as her head buried itself beneath his chin. "It's ok. It's ok. I have you."

"There was someone outside the-"

"I know." Shane swallowed hard. He took a quick look around as he began to move. "Whoever it was ran off. Come on."

Pulling her up a little more roughly than he intended, their feet carried them towards the sound of both people and sirens screaming.

"I don't know where she is, sir. I left her at home like you said-"

"Go find her Jimmy, damnit. Make sure Abby's safe. " The sheriff was barking out orders, his own barely concealed panic rising. Beneath the brim of his hat, a little relief was seen as Jimmy ran off, heading towards his truck.

"Sarah! Shane," Sheriff Mills' shoulders visibly sagged as they appeared.

"What the hell happened here?" Shane's eyes were taking everything in, spirits sinking when he saw the _Pride and Joy _burning alongside several other boats. Something in him died a little as he watched it collapse into the water.

His boat…

"I don't know how…" the sheriff's voice halted. "I don't know."

He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Shane, we're all doing what we can right now, and hard as it might be, I need you to get Miss Wellington to the other side of the island right away. Her dad has a boat that's going to take them back to the mainland. "

"'Course he does," Shane muttered bitterly.

"Shane." This time his name came out as a warning. He followed the sheriff's glance, taking in Sarah's soot-covered face, and the tears that had left a path across it.

"Hell." He gripped her elbow tightly, leading her to his truck.

Once they were both strapped in, he stuck the key into the ignition. It turned over quickly, but glancing into the mirrors he couldn't help but pause mid-action.

His boat, his legacy, his God-damned income. It was all going to the bottom of the harbor. And just before he could drive off, the Sheriff roared past him in his own truck, phone to his ear, as if the devil himself were chasing him.

"I'm sorry about your boat, Shane."

Glancing at the bedraggled looking girl, he nodded curtly, shifting gears as he pulled out of the lot with the sound of pealing tires.

"Come on, Sarah. We're getting you off this island."

************************************************************************

She never imagined that she'd hear those words again one day.


	4. Eighteen and TwentyTwo

_**Disclaimer**_**: Same as pervious**.

_Authors Note_: **For those who haven't re-read the story, just a quick reminder before this chapter begins: Sarah and Shane's ages were changed to bring everyone closer together in years. Because long as this story is going to be (and yes, it **_**is**_** going to be long), I didn't want y'all (or myself) to go gray waiting for certain things to happen**.

**Also, to answer one question…**

**Yes, this story is going to take our beloved characters through and beyond the ill-fated wedding. That's right. **_**Beyond**_**. I do have some setting up to do, however, so we can see several characters evolve, relationships fall apart, allow some to grow etc.**

**With all of this said, back to our story. Enjoy!**

**She Knew Him When . . .**

Looking to the horizon, Sarah could clearly make out the rocky shoals and tree-lined borders making up Harper's Island. Her hands rested on the metal railings of the ferry as it approached the small harbor.

It had been almost two years since she'd last visited. She'd been sixteen, almost seventeen when she was ushered from the cab of Shane Pierce's truck and into the boat that took her away from the rampage left behind.

That was what it had been called, the Rampage. It hadn't simply been a description; a _thing_. It had been an _event_. One day filled with horrors the locals would forever live with, and some visitors would never forget.

Sarah knew she definitely wouldn't. Knowing what she knew now…

In the tiny, run down shed, she'd been a few feet away from death-a fact that didn't help her nightmares of smoke and fire. After she'd seen the news stories broadcasted across Seattle's TV stations and heard several whispered conversations between Trish and Henry, she also knew that Abby had **seen** it. Her mother murdered, hanging in a tree with other parents. Other husbands, wives, someone's sister or brother…families ripped apart by one man for some inexplicable reason.

John Wakefield.

No one knew what had sent him on his killing spree that day. There was no rhyme or reason to it. The only thing the locals could do in his wake was find comfort in that Sheriff Mills shot him dead. No one blamed him for pulling the trigger instead of bringing him in. Those living on the island understood. Wakefield's death allowed people to grieve and mourn without fear. And when Reverend Fain refused to allow the murder to be buried on consecrated ground, the locals felt that, too, was justified.

It wasn't until Trish, Henry, and a few of his fraternity brothers decided to go back for the summer that Sarah woke up. She couldn't be afraid of a place forever. Her fears were in her mind-something everyone told her she'd move past in time. But she had to confront that fear first. Or so she was told.

It seemed almost ridiculous, considering she hadn't experienced what others had. Abby especially. But the memory of that door knob turning, and seeing just what the man on the other side of the door had been capable of? It was enough to give anyone second thoughts about going back to the island.

Yet here she was, watching the land grow larger as they grew closer. She didn't feel scared, as she thought she would have. In fact, other than a little lingering anxiety, she was pretty excited about it.

"Doing ok?"

Jumping at the voice, Sarah sighed as Henry's hands flew up in apology.

"I shouldn't have done that. Sorry." His dark eyes darted to the island and back. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. We hadn't seen you since we boarded and Trish was getting worried."

"Thought I jumped overboard and was swimming my way back to port?" Sarah asked flippantly.

"Not exactly."

Henry's voice was easy as always.

"I'm fine. _Really_," she assured him when his eyebrows rose skeptically. "Just a little jumpy."

"Yeah, well, I'd be surprised if you weren't."

He leaned his arms against the railing next to her, smiling gently in understanding.

"You didn't leave Harper's with the best memories," he said quietly.

"Neither did you," Sarah recalled. "You were there at the marina. You saw much more than I did."

Henry was silent as he stared off into the distance. Concerned that she'd brought up some of his own bad memories, Sarah touched his arm.

"Henry?"

Blinking, he shook his head ruefully.

"Spaced out there for a minute." He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "You're right, though. It wasn't exactly the stellar summer Id' been hoping for. But I learned a lot after that day."

"You did?"

"Yeah." Henry looked down at her intensely. "I cherish every day I have-more than I did before. J.D., Trish, Abby, my friends, you…" His hands lighted on her shoulders. "You're all very important and I think up until that point, I was taking it all for granted."

"Wow." Sarah looked at him, impressed with his ability to find such bright silver lining. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"More than you know."

"How is J.D.?" Sarah asked. Henry winced as he rested his haunches along the hard rails.

"Not very happy with me right now." Then adding, "Or with Uncle Marty."

"Because of the doctors?"

"Because we had to institutionalize him," Henry confessed softly.

Sarah's mouth fell open in shock. "What? Why?"

"We knew he hadn't been handling our parents death well." Henry looked to her, his eyes reflecting desperation and guilt. "Neither of us were, really. But the clothes, the music, dyeing his hair-well, we knew he was going through _something_. We just didn't know-"

His voice cut off abruptly as his head fell down against his chest.

"Henry?"

"He tried to kill himself, Sarah." Henry's voice was muffled as he ran a hand over his face. "There was a girl with him. She died, and he would have if I hadn't thought to come home then."

"God." Sarah wrapped her arms around herself. The wind off the water was less chilling than this news. "Trish never said anything about it."

"It was only last week," Henry explained, expression torn. "She was so busy with finals, I didn't want to unload this on her, too."

"Henry James Dunn." Sarah hugged the man she thought of as an older brother. "Aren't couples supposed to share in everything together? Even their burdens?"

"I'm going to tell her," he promised, hugging her back. "How about we change subjects?"

"Absolutely."

"Have you tried talking to Abby about-"

"Yo, Henry!"

A tall man with blonde hair jumped down off the steps from the upper deck. He looked around before catching sight of Henry and Sarah, his face breaking into a grin.

"Hey, you two!" Slapping his hands on either one of their shoulders, he looked between the pair. "What's going on here? Is one Wellington not enough for you, man?"

"Sully…" Henry sounded exasperated.

"Kidding! But in case you guys hadn't noticed, we're almost there." He nodded to the boat-lined dock. His eyes lit up at the sight. "Henry, I owe you BIG. Summer on this island paradise?"

Laughing, Henry patted his chest. "Relax, Sully. Just have a good time, don't mess with the locals too much, and we'll be even."

"What do you say, Sarah. Give me a private tour later?" Sully took his smile up a notch as he looked at the younger woman next to him.

"I think I'll leave that privilege to Henry. But thanks for asking." Sarah gave them a wave as she headed back up to the others in their group.

Watching her walk away, Sully followed her movements with rapt attention.

"Henry-"

"Don't even think it," the other man shook his head, pointing at his friend knowingly, "Trish would have my head if you went near her. Sarah's off limits."

"But she's so hot! Do you see that body?"

"No!" Henry laughed at his friend's expression. "You're only asking for trouble if you go there."

"Hey," Sully clapped him on the back as they headed towards the exit. "I can handle a little trouble."

"Uh-huh. Right." Henry shook his head as Trish hurried towards him. "NO."

************************************************************************

It took the group the better half of the day to settle into their digs, but once they had, the guys headed into town, Trish was getting on the phone to their father to let them know they'd arrived, and Sarah was feeling antsy.

"Go into town and find the guys," Trish suggested, waving the phone's receiver in the direction of the door. A wry smile touched her pink lips. "Knowing Daddy, I'll be a while and you didn't come back to stare at these four walls."

"No indeed," Sarah agreed. Grabbing her room key she started towards the door, then paused. "Thanks, Trish."

"Hey." Trish set the phone back into its cradle and hugged her sister tightly. "What are big sisters for?" Looking at her searchingly, her tapered eyebrows arched in concern. "You're sure you're ok?"

"Better than," Sarah promised. "Look, I'm going to find the guys in town, we're going to have a great dinner, then we're **all** going to enjoy an incredible summer."

"That's the spirit!" Trish jumped up and down, her smile wide as she clapped her hands in delight. "I'm so glad we're doing this. I've missed you this year."

"I've missed you, too," Sarah confessed, and she had. Cliché as it may have sounded Trish was her best friend. "This is going to be good. For all of us," she added. Trish nodded in agreement, pearls clacking against one another as she took her sisters hands.

"Just a word of warning," she said, leaning closer as if she expected someone else to be listening. "Sully?"

"What about him?"

Trish seemed to contemplate the most delicate way to warn her sister away from the notorious blonde. In the end, though, delicacy was defeated by frankness.

"He's a dog."

"I kind of figured that one out, thanks."

"Yeah, ok," Trish giggled, pushing Sarah's hair over her shoulders. It was a motherly gesture. "I guess it's pretty obvious."

"He asked for a private tour of the island."

There was a beat before they both burst out into hysterical laughter. Trish put a hand over her stomach.

"He did not!" The two sisters were still in stitches as the phone rang. "That's just bad-hello?" Trying to control her amusement, she wiped tears from her eyes as she gasped out, "Daddy! Yes, we're just fine." She quickly ushered Sarah from the room, her laughter under control as she winked. "Just enjoying some girl time."

************************************************************************

Laughter really was the best medicine, Sarah mused. She was fortunate to have such a good sister in Trish. The laughter they'd shared helped to ease the last bit of worry away.

Walking out onto the familiar dirt path near their cottage, Sarah followed the scent of pine and sea air into the center of town. Her steps felt lighter as she looked at the landmarks that had filled her summers; spying familiar faces, hearing well-remembered voices.

"Sarah Anne Wellington."

Turning at the sound of a particularly familiar voice, Sarah returned the elated grin worn by the older girl.

"Nikki!"

The two shared a tight embrace.

"Oh my God you look…" Nikki held her back to inspect her from head to toe. "You are **gorgeous**, Sar."

"Like you're not," Sarah replied. "Last I remember, all of the eligible boys in your class were after your heart-and even some who weren't so eligible."

"Oh, it wasn't my heart they were after," Nikki remarked off-handedly. "Trust me on that one."

She grinned wickedly when Sarah's cheeks pinked. "Come on. Now tell me what you're doing here!"

"Vacation with Trish and the boys."

"Oh, yeah? Boys?" Nikki drew out the word as if it had massive appeal. "Good-looking boys?"

Blonde curls spun as she turned on her toes.

"If you're into fraternity types, yes."

"Yum." Nikki twirled her keys around a finger while walking back to her car. "And no Daddy Wellington?"

"Nope."

"Wow. I guess that means you're all grown up now."

"Eighteen and headed off to college."

"Well then." A mischievous sparkle danced in Nikki's eyes as she motioned to the other side of the car with her chin. "Get in."

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked even as she was opening the door. Sliding on some over-sized sunglasses, the blonde grinned at her.

"Work."

************************************************************************

"You work at The Cannery?"

Sarah's blue eyes took in the local bar with interest. She'd heard many humorous stories that involved this place. Funny. Now she was actually old enough to enter the establishment.

Amusement was written all over Nikki's features as she bumped the back door open with her jeans clad hip. Grabbing some towels on a low shelf, she passed them to Sarah.

"Well, there are so many options for a girl here on Harper's Island," she said sardonically. "And considering the male specimens I see daily, well, let's just say I'm not in any rush to become an obedient little housefrau."

Sarah laughed, following her into the open space. "You enjoy it here."

"Hell, yeah!"

Nikki's enthusiasm was contagious, and in that moment Sarah realized she'd missed it all terribly. Holding up an old cigar box, the blonde deftly flipped the lid open to reveal dozens of butane lighters.

"Could you grab a few and-" she gestured to the votives in little red candle holders.

"Sure."

Paul McCartney was crooning _Photograph_ on the jukebox as the girls chatted and caught up. They managed to do it while dancing around any mention of the Rampage, though it made it a little awkward when either one mentioned Abby.

"You talk with her often?" Nikki asked slowly. She was rubbing down the bar with a cloth as Sarah took chairs down. The fabric of her blue sundress gently swished around her knees as she moved to another table.

"Once a month or so." Sarah pushed her hair over her shoulders and sighed. "Henry was trying to get her to come back this summer but," she shrugged. "I don't think she's ready."

"I don't blame her," Nikki said, her voice grim. "After everything that happened-everything she saw-"

"Beer!"

The door flew open, startling them both. Banging against the outside wall, the window rattled as a tall, broad-shouldered man with brown hair sauntered through.

"Seriously. Did you leave your manners on the boat?" Nikki demanded irritably. She threw her rag onto the bar as he took a seat. "I just had that window replaced from the last time it broke."

"Beer." The man repeated, slowly the second time. "Please."

"Better," Nikki admitted grudgingly. "But until I'm 21, I can only **man** the bar, not serve from it." She ignored the bristling customer and waved a hand at him. "You can wait three months, or until Bruce comes in at six, Shane. Your choice."

"Shane!" Sarah echoed in disbelief, swiveling around from the table she'd been cleaning.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded bored, if not borderline hostile.

In no real hurry, he turned on his barstool. Obviously he hadn't been expecting her. Still, his expression caught her off guard-because he wore no expression. His face was strangely reserved, blue eyes boring into hers as he nodded.

"Sarah."

Even when he spoke his voice was unnaturally even. At the very least she'd expected him to register some surprise. She knew she had been. But this…this was odd.

"Shane."

"Hey. Back in town?"

His expression remained neutral.

"Um, yeah. For the summer."

"Groovy."

Then breaking his gaze, he turned back to the bar, using both hands to push himself up.

"You know what? I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I forgot I told Jimmy we'd unload some of the fish we caught today. I'll have that beer some other time."

"O-kay." Nikki looked bewildered as he headed back towards the entrance. Reaching it, Shane turned to give them a mock salute.

"Ladies." Deftly pushing against the door, he slid back out. The roar of a truck filling the air moments later.

"Wow." Nikki shook her head in disbelief. "Just…wow."

Stunned, Sarah looked at her friend asking, "What was that?"

"I have no idea," Nikki sniffed. She peered out one of the square windows overlooking the parking lot. "But just when I think I don't understand why he is the way he is, I understand him even less."

Feeling unexpectedly bothered by his attitude, Sarah's eyes remained fixed on the window Nikki was staring from.

"Shane's just a jerk." The blonde huffed, making her way behind the bar once more. "Has been since school. Don't let him get to you."

Sarah nodded, but Nikki's words had fallen on deaf ears.

He'd already gotten to her.


	5. Two Fishermen, A Beer, and an Angry Girl

_**Disclaimer**_**: Same as previous chapters, with the addition of the local drunk, Richie Kaplan. He, too, is all mine. **

_**Authors Note**_**: I don't know what it was about this chapter, but while certain parts wrote themselves out with no effort, others made me feel as if I were crawling over broken glass. It was a ****very**** painful struggle. **

**I blame Shane and his pig-headed stubbornness. Go ahead, you can, too. **

**In any case, Chapter Five is finally done and I couldn't be happier**. **Enjoy!**

**She Knew Him When . . .**

"You know what I can't stand?"

Looking up from the deck he'd finished cleaning, Jimmy Mance shook his head slowly.

"What's that, Shane?"

"These mainlanders."

Jimmy took his cap off and sat back against an ice chest.

He knew Shane had been working up to this conversation for a while now. In fact, he'd been expecting it; waiting for the bomb to go off. The explosion could be big, or small. Either way, Shane had been in a mood for weeks.

"Ok. What about them?" Hair fell across his face as he shrugged affably. "I mean, besides bringing in the money, changing the scenery up a bit, helping us put food on our tables, what evils have they committed now?"

From where he was gutting their catch of the day, Shane's head tilted to the side, face clearly showing agitation.

"Don't do that, man."

"Sorry. " Jimmy's smile was apologetic. "What is it then?"

"They treat the island like it's some novelty."

"Small town life on Harper's is a novelty for a lot of people. That's the appeal, " Jimmy pointed out, shrugging. "It's nothing new."

"It's stupid, man. Nobody born here leaves, and these summer kids think it's peachy keen to live and die on this rock."

"Some people leave."

"You're not going to bring _her_ up are you?" Shane's gibe made his feelings clear on that subject. "It's been, what, almost two years? Face it." He picked up the last fish, waving it at his friend.. "Abby's gone, man. She ain't coming back. Not to you, not to this island. Can't say I blame her either."

Jimmy pointedly overlooked the shot taken at Abby, keeping the focus on Shane and his problem.

"Sometimes people come back."

"Yeah, well, they're no better for it."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Jimmy asked curiously. "'Cause we could be shooting pool instead of the breeze."

"She's changed." Shane muttered, tossing the fish onto his cutting board.

"Who?" Then a light bulb suddenly went on in Jimmy's head. "Sarah?"

"Yes, Sarah. Have you seen her?"

"Ah, yeah." Jimmy grinned slowly. "It's a small island, remember?"

"Yeah, well, she's different now. The hair," he swung down hard at the fish, chopping off its head. "The legs and the," he held his hands out in front of his chest, cupping them. "Eyes."

Jimmy bit down on his lip to keep from smiling any wider. "She's a girl, Shane. Sarah's always had hair and legs and," he paused to swallow a laugh. "Eyes."

"But you see the people she's hanging out with now?" Shane didn't wait for Jimmy to answer as he continued on, picking up the fillet knife, slicing extra viciously into the small fish. "College guys-frat boys. Henry God damned Dunn's little pals. No more island folk for her, no sir." The knife slammed down tip-first into the cutting board. "Daddy must be over the moon."

"They're not so bad," Jimmy offered mildly. He pretended not to see the dark look Shane sent him. "They're nice once you get to know them. Besides, Henry's a good guy. You know that. He wouldn't bring anyone bad here."

"Whatever," Shane grumbled.

"What's the big deal anyway?" Jimmy moved to pick up some rope Shane had left out. "So she hangs out with some of Henry's friends. She's allowed."

"They're assholes."

Beginning to coil the rope around his arm, Jimmy looked through dark hair at his friend. "You know how you sound don't you?"

"No. But please," Shane straightened up, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Feel free to enlighten me oh wise one."

"All right." Jimmy stopped his wrapping motions. "You sound jealous."

The expression on Shane's face was comical. Crossed somewhere between horrified and dumbfounded, he blinked rapidly, shaking his head. "I'm not jealous."

"Didn't say you were," Jimmy replied smoothly. He continued to wind up the rope. "I said you _sound_ jealous."

"Yeah, well," Shane rolled his shoulders, turning back to his work. "I'm not."

"All right."

"Who are you to be giving opinions on relationships anyway?"

Carefully ignoring the barb, Jimmy quashed his growing annoyance by deflecting the question.

"Maybe I'm not. Anyway, why would I give you advice on something you're not in?"

Shane hesitated, considering the question before nodding slowly. "Right."

"Exactly." Jimmy finished and set the rope down.

"That's what I'm saying."

"So there's no reason to be jealous."

"Yeah."

"So you are?"

"I'm what?"

"Jealous."

"Wha-NO!" Shane snapped. He tossed the fish into a bucket of fresh water, taking his gloves and apron off. "Stop trying to turn this into something it isn't."

"Ok." Jimmy went along agreeably. "You're not jealous."

"No."

"Angry?"

Opening the cooler Jimmy had been sitting near, Shane pulled out a beer, twisting off the cap with a little more force than necessary.

"No."

"You sound a little testy."

"I'm not _testy_," Shane mimicked.

"Are you happy?"

"What?"

"I asked if you were happy," Jimmy said repeated patiently. "That Sarah came back."

"Oh." Shane took a long pull from his beer and shrugged, looking down at the bottle. "It won't be bad having her around again, I guess."

"Great. Then if everything's cool there's no need to avoid her every time you see her."

"Do I do that?" Shane's attempt to look innocent may have fallen flat, but he had the decency to look a sheepish when Jimmy hit his arm. "Ok. Maybe I do."

"Can I ask why?"

"No."

Stifling a groan, Jimmy swore that being friends with Shane Pierce was sometimes the most exhausting job on earth. He was more stubborn than a barnacle stuck to the bottom of a boat.

"Stop trying to go all Dr. Phil on me, Jimmy." Shane polished of his drink and tossed it into a bin. Reaching back into the cooler, he grabbed two more long necks and handed one to Jimmy. It was his version of a peace offering. "Everything's fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Great."

"Good."

Opening their drinks, the clink of glass sounded as the two saluted one another on a hard days work. They drank without speaking, falling into a companionable silence as the sun started its descent into the horizon. It signaled the end of another day, and the start of the evening ahead.

"We did pretty well today," Jimmy commented after a while.

"Brought in nice looking numbers," Shane agreed. His eyes took in the boat they'd been working on for the past year. "Paycheck's going to be good. I'd say we could go in together and get better equipment, but you probably want to squirrel it away towards your dream boat."

"Give me a few more years and I'll have one," Jimmy said confidently. He brought the bottle to his lips, "Every man has his dreams, right?"

Shane grunted as he finished off his second drink, tossing it in with the first. Taking the opportunity, Jimmy grabbed his duffle and stepped up onto the dock. He waited while Shane finished putting things away.

"She looks nice."

"What?" Shane stuck his head out of the cabin.

"Sarah," Jimmy smiled broadly. He couldn't resist baiting his friend. "She looks nice."

"Drop it, man."

"I'm just saying-"

"Seriously." Shane joined him on the dock. "Not another word or I'm not buying tonight's rounds."

"That's mighty generous of you." Jimmy remarked. His face was filled with enough merriment to have Shane swearing.

"If it'll shut you up, I'll even buy you your damn dream boat."

************************************************************************

Three hours later they found themselves heading down the uneven walkway to Harper's Beach. Taking in the bonfire, the numerous locals and visitors, it was crowded. And loud. Music pulsed through large speakers resting in the back of someone's truck.

"Tell me why we're out here again?"

"The Cannery was too quiet and Nikki said it was going to be a big party," Jimmy replied. Glancing at Shane he gave a good-natured smile. "Could be fun. We don't see big gatherings like this anymore."

"There's a reason for that," Shane muttered under his breath. He surveyed the people milling around. Some he knew, some he didn't, and one particular person was headed his way.

"Damn."

"What?" Jimmy's eyes narrowed in concern.

"Kelly."

Catching sight of the frail, dark-eyed girl, Jimmy looked at his friend knowingly. "You shouldn't have hooked up with her, Shane. She gets attached easily, especially after her mom died. I tried to tell you-"

"Yeah, yeah, your concern is really touching."

"Just try to be nice, ok? She's headed over here," Jimmy said in a low voice, turning away.

"Then I'm headed over there." Shane pointed in the opposite direction, ducking through the crowd of party goers.

He wove his way around several times, trying to ditch his ex. He almost ran into Sarah, but despite his words to Jimmy, brushed right past her in his efforts to avoid Kelly. When he felt he'd succeeded, he made his way towards the drinks.

Standing by a makeshift bar someone created out of pieces of driftwood, Shane eyed his options thoughtfully.

"_Sacred Turtle_?" His eyebrows furrowed as he picked up the small bottle of amber liquid from a cooler. "Never heard of that one before." He turned it around in his hands, decided it looked good enough and wiped it of on his shirt. "What the hell."

He started to pop the top when Jimmy approached.

"Well, it looks like you managed to avoid Kelly."

"Here's hoping," Shane declared as he held out the bottle to his friend.

"New brew?"

"Guess so. Not local." Shane opened up a second one and took a swig. "Not bad either. What's up?"

"I spotted Henry near the steps." Jimmy gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "You want to go say hi?"

"Let me see," Shane pretended to think. "Ah, gee, no. You go on. Have fun playing with your friends."

"Suit yourself," Jimmy sighed. "Word of warning, though. Don't touch those bottles down there." He pointed to a small group of beer bottles further form the others. "I heard Richie Kaplan thought it would be a good idea to, uh, _relieve_ himself into a few of them."

"Gross man!" Shane saw the offender dancing by himself near the water. Jimmy was watching him too, chuckling at the local handyman and carouser.

"He's not all there is he?"

"Never was," Shane remarked. "Might have something to do with the fact that he spends all day inhaling paint fumes."

"Just might," Jimmy agreed. "See you later?"

"Maybe."

Clapping Shane's shoulder, Jimmy headed towards the bonfire. Watching him greet Henry Dunn and his band of merry morons, Shane's mood soured considerably.

"Losers," he muttered, sipping more of the tasty microbrew. He stood there finishing his beer, considering the possibility of leaving, when two of Henry's friends separated from the group, heading his way.

Maybe it was due to the crowd, maybe they were both wasted. But for whatever reason, their voices carried and grew louder. Shane couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

And it pissed him off.

"Dude, let it go. She's not interested." One of the guys sounded tired, as if the conversation had been had many times before.

"Come on, Danny!" The blonde, Sully, Shane remembered, glanced behind them, then back at his dread-locked friend. "Sarah's fine as hell, unattached, and she's totally feeling it. I can tell."

"Yeah, and I can tell that if you don't quit hitting on her soon, Trish is going to have your sorry ass," the other guy, Danny, warned. "And if she doesn't, Henry definitely will."

"Please." Sully scoffed at the notion of his friends making a big deal out of the situation. " Listen, you've seen the locals, right? Given the fact that we're on a remote island, and they're the only other option available, she's bound to wear down sooner or later. I just have to, you know, keep at it."

"Wow." Danny was temporarily rendered speechless. "You are something else, man. A real romantic. Can't imagine why Sarah hasn't been crawling all over you."

"All in good time." Sully sounded very sure of himself. "She's eighteen, Danny-the beginning of her sexual prime and," he leaned in closer, "I'm willing to bet no guy has _ever_ tapped that ass."

"Hey!"

Jumping , the two fraternity brothers blinked at the burly man glaring menacingly at them. Unsure of himself, Sully gradually spoke up.

"Uh…Shane, right?"

"Yeah?" He continued to glare.

"Sully." The blonde pointed to himself, then to his friend. "This is Danny. We're Henry's friends."

And as if Sully's introduction seemed to make everything all better, Shane smiled. He smiled so nicely it made Danny and Sully shift on their feet . "Well if you're friends of Henry's…

He continued to stare with his smile, enjoying the obvious discomfort of the two men. Then as if the thought just occurred to him, he slapped a hand against his thigh. "Oh, hey! You guys want a beer?"

"Yeah." Sully looked relieved, even smiling back. "Sure. Thanks, man. What do you have back there?"

"Let's see…" Pretending to look around, Shane turned back with two beers in hands. "Here you go." He handed Danny a frosty one, then offering the second to Sully he said, "Sorry if your brew's warm, but what can I say? Some people don't have respect for good beer."

Sully took the bottle and nodded his thanks. "That's cool. Warm beer's better than none."

"I couldn't agree more." Giving another broad smile, Shane brushed past them, calling back, "Enjoy your evening."

"Later, man," Danny hollered, remarking to Sully," Nice guy."

Shane wove his way back through the crowd, feeling justified, then downright smug when he saw Sully sputter, visibly gagging. Even over the crowd he could be clearly heard.

"What the-this stuff tastes like piss!"

Chuckling, Shane turned to wave goodnight to Jimmy. He jumped up the last few steps up the walkway and headed to his truck, pulling out the keys. He'd just opened the door when a lone figure stalking down the road caught his attention.

_Sarah_, he thought.

It was the perfume that tipped him off.

He'd recognize her in the dark from the light scent alone. Aside from the slender, ivory legs and dark hair he also knew that walk.

She was angry. Because of him.

"Damnit," he muttered, knowing the mess he'd created had to be cleaned up. Now.

Clearing his throat he called out to her. "Need a ride?"

Stopping in her tracks, Sarah turned to see Shane standing several feet behind her, hand resting on the handle of his truck's door. Tall, dark, and mean-that was Shane Pierce. If she hadn't already been seething, she would have been a little intimidated by him standing in the shadows of the trees. But tonight's snubbing had pushed her temper to the limit.

"So you're speaking to me now?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I'd rather walk."

"C'mon, Sarah." Shane's voice softened marginally, coaxing. "You don't want to walk on these roads when half the island is on their way to a crazy hangover."

"I'll take my chances with the lunatic drunks," she snapped. "But thanks for your concern."

"Ok." Shane slammed his door and started towards her. "Let's hear it. I know you have something to say, and I probably deserve it."

"**Probably**? Fine." Sarah's eyes flashed when he came to a stop in front of her. "Every time I've seen you since we arrived you've either turned the other way or completely ignored me. I know we're not what most people consider to be friends, but we've always gotten along reasonably well."

Rubbing a hand over the five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw, Shane closed his eyes, as if he were gathering infinite patience.

"Listen-"

"No. _You _listen. I'm going to talk now."

Sarah felt an odd thrill of satisfaction as Shane's mouth snapped shut. The tic in his jaw seemed to be starting up, but she didn't really care. She was going to be heard.

"I understand that you have a reputation to uphold for being the town jerk, and you pick people apart for kicks, but you've never…"she licked her lips, taking in a shaky breath. "You've never ever treated me as badly as you have been. I don't understand it."

"Sarah."

"You **hurt** me."

Those three words sent most of the heat right out of her.

"After Mother died, I didn't want to come here. Because Trish would be off with Henry, Shea would be with Richard, and Daddy-," she inhaled. "Daddy was just trying to keep our family together, though he was barely going through the motions. Despite that even he had **someone** to talk to. I didn't. I was ten and in their eyes apparently too young to fully grasp what was going on."

"That was stupid."

"Of course it was stupid," Sarah retorted. "But people do and think stupid things when they're upset or afraid."

Shane rolled a hand impatiently, gesturing for her to continue. "Getting back to the point?"

Sarah's mouth tightened at the corners, holding her temper in check.

"Do you remember how you used to let me stay on your boat while you worked?"

"Can't exactly forget when someone uses your autographed Yankee's jersey for a snot rag," Shane grumbled.

"You shouldn't have left it on the desk, and that's part of what I'm trying to get you to understand. Even when that happened, you didn't complain" Sarah took a step closer to him, blue eyes looking up at him. "You never told me I was being a nuisance, or made me feel as if I were a problem. Every day you let me go on and on and you never said a word to anyone. I thought that made you a better person than everyone else said you were."

"Stupid as it might have been, I considered you a friend, even though I know we weren't in the typical way most people are. You're someone I looked forward to seeing most when we came for the summer."

"You really didn't have high standards, did you?"

"Stop that!" Sarah threw her hands up in frustration. "Why do you do that? Do you really enjoy being such a pinhead?"

"Hey, I make **no** apologies for being who I am." Shane closed the distance between them, jaw jutting out defensively as his own temper rose. "Take it or leave it, sweetheart, I don't care. "

"Bull. We wouldn't be having this out if you didn't care. Besides, I'm not asking for apologies for you being you, Shane-I'm not asking for apologies period!" Sarah exclaimed. "You probably wouldn't give one even if I did."

"Then what do you want?"

"An explanation." She crossed her arms under her chest. "What I did, or why you think you have to avoid me. That way, if you really want to keep doing whatever it is you're doing, at least I can understand why."

A heavy silence hung between them as they stared one another down. Neither wanted to be the first one to break, but when Sarah's lower lip turned down into a pout it bothered the hell out of Shane.

"You've changed," he offered as an explanation.

"It's been almost two years," Sarah said, incredulous. "We've _all_ changed."

"Yeah, well two years ago we were good enough to hang out with."

Sarah didn't seem to comprehend what he was saying at first, but then it sank in. "You're not serious."

"Yeah, I am!" Shane shot back. "You leave and when you finally deign to reappear, the only people you hang out with are those idiot prepsters Henry brought to my island."

Leaning forward, Sarah held up a hand for him to see.

"One," she ticked off on her fingers, "there was a good reason didn't come back last summer, Shane. Two, I'll spend my time with whoever I want. And three, explain to me then why, on my first day back on _your island_-even before I was spending time with Henry's friends-you acted like you couldn't care less that I was back."

"I was surprised," Shane disagreed.

"You could have fooled me." Sarah looked at him through her lashes, voice quieting. "I was glad to see you but you…you sat on that damn bar stool and acted like it was any other day of the week."

"Yeah, well, maybe that's how it seemed, but trust me, seeing you standing there in The Cannery was a shock." Eyebrows raising to emphasize his point, he shrugged. "Really. You hadn't been here in a while and then, there you were, all pretty and-look, the thing is," he took a deep breath, "I acted like an ass."

Sarah looked at him, silent.

"I acted like a _huge_ ass." Still nothing. "The biggest ass on the face of the planet, ok? I'm sorry."

Amazed that he actually said it and a more than a little preoccupied with the fact that he'd said she was pretty, Sarah acknowledged the apology with a small nod, feeling the last of her anger ebb.

"So are we done?" Shane asked gruffly. He was now standing close enough for her to feel the heat through his clothes.

"Yes."

"Feeling better?"

"Much."

"Good."

Shane opened his mouth to restate his offer of a ride home when the low boom of several small explosions came from the direction of the beach..

Recalling the last time she'd heard explosions on the island, Sarah jumped, clutching at Shane's shirt reflexively. His hands caught her as she darted forward and held her still.

"Hey," Shane murmured into her ear. Looking up, she was near enough to see how deeply the line of concern was etched in his brow. "It's just some idiots that decided the Fourth of July was early this year."

Sarah felt foolish as she processed what Shane was telling her. It was only fireworks.

Letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in, her head fell forward onto his chest. Relief flooded her senses and she inhaled deeply. Aided by the soothing strokes of a hand on her back, Sarah sank a little further into the calm and spoke without thinking.

"You smell good," she sighed.

A puff of breath brushed past her hair as Shane laughed. "Thanks. You don't smell too bad either."

Sarah's eyes flew open, horrified by how freely she'd spoken.

"Sarah?"

"Right. Sorry." Letting go of his shirt, she took a step back, regaining her space.

"It's ok. Women don't usually need fireworks to throw themselves at me, but whatever. It works."

Staring at him, Sarah felt a bubble of mixed emotions preparing to burst. It was such a Shane thing to say that in that moment, things felt like they used to. Normal.

She shook her head at him.

"Shane, you are so-"

"Charming, lovable-"

"More like arrogant, rude-"

"Offering you a ride home if you're still interested." Shane held up his keys, jingling them in front of her. He seemed pleased when she nodded.

"Thank you."

"It's not like I was going to let you actually walk back by yourself."

"So…what? You would have dragged me back to your truck? Even if I kicked and screamed the entire way?"

Shane's lips looked as if they were curling up at the corners as he replied, "Well, as long as you were screaming my name, sure."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Impossible to keep away from," Shane quipped, earning an eye-roll.

"Well, it's good to know some things don't change."

Sarah's cheeks warmed when Shane flashed her a smile. A _real_ smile.

"That's one thing about the island," he opened the passenger side door, leaned against it. "Nothing _ever_ changes."

Mulling this over, Sarah accepted his hand as he helped her up. Rough met smooth as her hand lighted on his. After she was in, Shane slammed the door shut, moving back to his side. He climbed into the cab, searching for the right key when Sarah spoke.

"I'm all right with things staying the same, you know. Consistency is good."

"Yeah, maybe." Shane started the truck, hand on the gear shift, though not moving it. "But…" He turned to look at Sarah, his expression intense. "Sometimes change can be good, too. Right?"

There was to be more to his words than he was saying out loud, and Sarah wondered how to respond. Something told her to choose her words carefully as they seemed to be very important.

"Change can be good," she agreed softly.

Seeming satisfied by her answer, Shane shifted the gear; his mood lighter as he pulled onto the quiet road.

"So…" His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as they drove further inland. "Are you sure you're ready to go back?"

"Maybe. Why?" Sarah turned in her seat to face him. "Do you have another suggestion?"

"Yeah, actually. I do."

Shane's grin was devilish as he eyed her.

"How about a good, long…game of pool?"

Flustered and amused, Sarah pointed back towards the docks with a bright smile. "You're on!"

"Damn right we are." Shane was in high spirits as he turned back around. "We are on."


	6. A Lunch and Some Handcuffs

_**Disclaimer**_**: **Same as previous chapters. Sarah Wellington, Richie Kaplan, and Miss "Bitsy" Mae Washington are my own creations, however, and I love them for playing both large and small roles.

The song playing on the radio that sends Jimmy off to La-La Land is "Thinking About You" by Norah Jones. Gorgeous artist, beautiful music.

_**Authors Note**_**: **I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It's brought me that much closer to getting to a curveball I'm going to throw, which you may or may not see coming. If you don't, lovely, if you do, that's lovely as well.

I didn't mean for this chapter to be so long-and it's _really_ long. Ridiculously so, which means I'm going to beg you all to stay with me on this one. The story continued to unfold, the dialogues grew, and before I knew it…well, it's long.

In other news, as I gave a heads up to some of my reviewers, I'm going to let everyone else know this as well: with the **Harper's Island **DVD being released on September 8th, I'm hoping to have the chapter up that returns all of our characters to the actual plot of the series up on that date as well.

Cross your fingers, y'all, and enjoy this new (and have I mentioned very long) chapter!

**She Knew Him When…**

Sitting around a booth in Mae's Diner, Shane, Sarah, Jimmy, and Nikki ate off one another's plates. The radio was tuned to a local Seattle station, picking up Avril Lavigne's wailing anthem, _Complicated_.

"She's got it right," Nikki remarked, then bit into a chicken wing she'd snatched from Jimmy, moaning," Soooooo good."

"You're making me feel _really_ uncomfortable, Nik." Shane took a fry hanging off of Sarah's plate, gesturing between the blonde and the food. "You want us to leave you two alone?"

Nikki threw a dirty napkin at him, which Shane batted down easily. "Don't be a jerk."

"He can't help it."

Speaking in unison, Jimmy and Sarah laughed. Shane just rolled his eyes at them as Nikki smirked in his direction, taking another deliberate bite of the wing, licking her lips slowly.

"Food whore."

"Island bitch."

"Ahem!"

The bickering stopped, and the group looked up from their table.

Known fondly as Mae to those from the island, "Bitsy" Mae Washington peered at them through her glasses, lips pursed dourly. Elderly and diminutive she may have been, but the owner and namesake of the diner had the largest ears and mouth of anyone on Harper's Island. Rumor had it she was related to their country's first president, but that tale was probably as great a legend as her mouth.

If you wanted a secret kept, rule of thumb was never say it to _or_ around Miss Bitsy Mae. She had little respect for the privacy of others, and as it turned out, even less tolerance for the antics of young people.

"Much as I love seeing you all enjoying yourselves, this is not a bar," she said primly. Her keen eyes lit on Nikki, who smiled sweetly. "This is a **respectable** establishment. Business is just starting pick up after everything that's happened, so I don't want you all scaring away the folks with that sort of language."

She turned her gaze on Shane, who ducked under her scrutiny. "Am I clear?"

"Yes m'am."

The response elicited a transformation as Bitsy Mae gave them a kind, grandmotherly smile.

"Very good. Now how about I bring you all some of my fresh strawberry pie, hmm? It's divine!" Her soft voice rose to a squeak near the end as she puttered off to grab each of them a slice. She gave Jimmy's shoulder a light tap as she passed.

"You know," Shane cleared his throat, looking at Nikki. "If you and the chicken wings don't work out, there's always the strawberry pie. I hear it's _divine_."

"Shut-up, Shane."

Sitting on the end of the booth, Jimmy was fully enjoying the familiarity of the situation. It was funny how easily they fell back into old patterns. They were all a little older, somewhat changed. Maybe wiser. But despite the passage of time, some things still stayed the same.

That felt good. Damn good.

The only thing missing was-

"Jimmy. You still with us, man?"

Shane's voice brought him back to his surroundings. Pushing some of his hair back, he forced a smile.

"Been here the whole time. Why?"

"You had that look on your face." Shane's expression was pointed. He knew exactly where his thoughts had been going.

"I'm **good**," Jimmy replied firmly. "My mind wandered a little, that's all."

"That's cool."

"So what did I miss?"

"Well…" Shane slowly drew out the word as he switched targets. "We were just discussing how we all think Bitsy Mae's sweet on you."

"She was getting kind of grabby," Sarah mused. Nodding, Shane leaned back into his seat next to her.

"Yeah, she was."

Jimmy shook his head, his smile gathering more warmth. He was content to go along with something else he enjoyed: his friend's ribbing.

"Mae and Jimmy sitting in a tree," Nikki began softly.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G," they all chorused, cracking up in their seats when the elderly proprietor waved in their direction.

"I've missed this," Jimmy confessed. His breath caught as Sarah tossed a cold fry at him, giggling. "Ok, maybe not _that_."

"Well, we could have been doing this a lot sooner if someone," Nikki fixed Shane with a hard stare, "hadn't been acting like a colossal jackass."

"Water under the bridge," Sarah said smoothly. Her shoulders lifted daintily as she added, "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, Nikki," Shane's voice was tinged with annoyance. "No big deal, so bite it."

Wrinkling her nose in distaste as she flicked at her straw, Nikki shuddered. "No thanks. You're so not my type."

"Really? I thought everyone was your type."

"Enough, guys." Jimmy made a time-out sign with his hands. "We're having a _nice_ lunch, remember?"

"Anyway…" Nikki tossed her hair back, collecting her thoughts. "I'm glad you two worked out whatever needed to be worked out. It was getting pretty uncomfortable."

"Here, here." Jimmy raised his soda, drinking from it. He was about to wave to Mae and ask for ice cream with their pies when a soft, slow melody drifted from the speakers of the radio.

"…_when you sail across the ocean waters, and you reach the other side safely, could you smile a little smile for me? 'Cause I'll be thinkin' about you_…"

He sighed without meaning to, catching the attention of his friends.

"Jimmy?" Sarah's eyes flew to him in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered quickly. "I'm fine. It's just this song."

"The song?" Nikki tilted her head to hear it, her mouth forming a small "o" when she understood. "Abby loved this song."

Shane rolled his eyes, but didn't say a thing when Jimmy nodded.

"I took her to a Norah Jones concert earlier that summer. Remember?" He wasn't really looking at any of them when he asked his question.

The girls made sympathetic noises, offering kind smiles; something Jimmy was grateful for.

"Do you think she'll ever come back?" Nikki asked, her eyes darting to Sarah's.

"I think that's my cue to leave." Shane didn't bother to hide his ire as he slid out of the booth. Tossing a few bills on the table, he nodded towards the door. "I'll see you all outside."

"Shane…"

"What the-" Nikki blew air from between her lips as he walked away from their table, blue eyes wide. "Do you _believe_ him?"

"He's just protective," Jimmy said by way of explanation, but Sarah was already shaking her head.

"As the daughter of Thomas Wellington, believe me, I understand protective. But that…" she sank down into her seat, feeling disappointed. "Why does he have to be so mean about it?"

Jimmy let out a bark of laughter.

"Have you known Shane to be any other way? Besides," his voice raised slightly above the girls' protests. "That's how he gets when he's not sure what to say."

"He doesn't know what to say so he walks out in the middle of a conversation?"

Sarah worried her lower lip as Nikki continued her rant.

"He's your best friend-or at least claims to be." Her finger tapped against the tabletop irately. "He knows how much you love Abby. He shouldn't be convincing you to move on if you still do. He should be trying to help."

"He is trying," Jimmy argued quietly. "In his own way."

"Well, his way sucks." Sarah muttered. Running a hand through her dark locks she wondered aloud, "How does he do that?"

"Do what?" Nikki was rummaging through her purse, coming up with a lip gloss applicator moments later.

"Go from charming to jerk so quickly?"

"Charming?" Nikki asked slowly. She exchanged a glance with Jimmy. "Shane Pierce?"

Sarah was about to explain her choice of words when an angry voice rose above the buzz of the other diners.

"-FULL OF PISS!"

Conversation began to dwindle as other patrons started looking for the source of the shouting.

"Is that Sully?"

Jimmy's face may have been hidden by strands of hair once more, but the confusion in his voice was still plain.

"Sully. The hot boy?" Nikki perked up as she turned in her seat.

"The mad boy," Sarah corrected.

Being the first to stand, she could clearly see Sully and Shane in a stand-off by the cash register. Behind his fraternity brother, Henry was obviously trying to diffuse the situation, but had little effect as Shane's shoulders went rigid, his words suddenly directed at Henry.

They had no idea what Shane said, but Henry's brows drew together angrily. Speaking over his shoulder, Sully's face went red, but he nodded in agreement to whatever it was Henry seemed to be saying to him.

"Oh, to be a fly on that wall…" Nikki said softly.

"I don't think you want to be that fly," Jimmy countered. He edged out of the booth, eyeing the mounting tension near the front. "I don't think Henry's got this as under control as he'd like to think."

Shane's hands were moving rapidly, pointing behind him as he continued to speak. The back of his neck was turning red as well, which was definitely a bad sign. Henry's nodding lead them to believe he was agreeing with whatever Shane was saying, and for a moment it looked as if the storm was about to pass.

But then Sully's voice rose again.

"It was just **talk**. I don't have to apologize to anyone!"

And Shane swung.

He started to duck, but Sully didn't move fast enough and caught the punch in his jaw. He did recover quickly, though, and charged Shane, knocking him into the front counter and towards the floor. Using the momentum, Sully's face was twisted with fury as he swung down hard, making contact.

"Shane!" Sarah scrambled towards him, but Jimmy blocked her way.

"You don't want to get in the middle of that," he warned, bolting up front to help Henry.

The two struggled to tear the men apart as Miss Bitsy Mae flapped her tiny hands frantically, shrieking, "Not in my diner! Take it outside, you ruffians. Take it outside!"

Jimmy and Henry almost had them to the door, but Shane broke loose, tackling Sully. His actions threw them both through the glass door and onto the pavement outside. Time seemingly stopped as everyone stared, horrified.

"I'm calling the Sherriff!" Bitsy Mae cried. Her shrill voice cut through the air, and slowly everyone began to move again.

Making her way up front with Nikki at her side, Sarah's heart raced furiously.

"Stupid boys," Nikki swore, trying to get a glimpse of the action as they moved through the other onlookers.

Things happened quickly after that.

Sherriff Charlie Mills had already been next door grabbing a newspaper, and when Shane and Sully crashed through the door to Mae's Diner, he was on them in seconds. Cuffing them first, inspecting them second.

He spoke quietly to both as his newest deputy rolled up in a patrol car. Giving instructions, he handed off custody to him and approached the small group of friends.

Hunching his shoulders inside his green jacket, the Sherriff eyed them carefully.

"Did you all see what happened?"

"We were in the back Sherriff," Nikki answered softly. "Sarah, me, and Jimmy. We don't know how it started."

"I helped break it up," Jimmy added. "But like Nikki said, we were in the back. I don't know what set things off."

"I can help out there," Henry held up his hand. The Sherriff gave a sharp nod, flipping open a small notebook.

"I want to talk to you before I go inside to hear from the other witnesses."

"Sure."

"Can I go, Sherriff Mills?" Nikki asked anxiously. "My shift starts soon since Bruce is sick, and-"

"Yeah, go on, Nikki," he mumbled. "You, too," he motioned to Sarah and Jimmy. His eyes then flickered to the last person with them. "Henry?"

Moving aside so he and the Sherriff could talk, Nikki gave Jimmy and Sarah quick hugs before taking off. Pointing down the road a ways, Jimmy was also ready to leave the scene.

"I'm going to take Shane's truck. Tell him for me?"

"Ok." Sarah watched as Shane was shoved down into the police cruiser. His face was a mess. "I'll let him know."

"Too bad." Jimmy said. He looked back at the diner with a regretful smile. "It was a nice meal."

"Yeah. It was. See you later?"

"Yeah."

Waving good-bye when Jimmy drove away, Sarah purposely remained where she was. Patrons were walking past, whispering in hushed voices as they viewed the damage, but carefully avoiding the actual remnants of the fight.

Sarah, however, zeroed in on Henry and Abby's father. Their heads were bent down as they talked, Henry's arms crossed as they always were when he was feeling stressed.

Their discussion didn't take long, and soon, Henry spotted her. His expression told her that he knew why she'd waited behind.

"What was that all about, Henry?"

Henry's gaze was apologetic.

"Apparently Shane pulled some sort of joke on Sully the night of the bonfire. A bad one," he added, "but maybe warranted."

"Maybe?" Sarah took in the broken glass and drops of blood on the pavement with serious eyes. "Please tell me you can give me more than that."

"You have to understand, I only know a little more than you," Henry began as he took her back to the night of the bonfire. "We'd all been drinking, and you know how guys talk sometimes-even without the alcohol."

"And Sully said something stupid to Shane?" Sarah guessed.

"From what I gathered it's more like he said something stupid and Shane overheard him."

Sarah watched the back of the police cruiser as it left with the two men in back. She still didn't understand.

"It was about you."

Henry's words may have been reluctantly spoken, but they had enough impact to quickly direct Sarah's attention back to him.

"Sully said something about me?" she asked. Pressing for more, she touched Henry's hand. "What?"

"It's not important," he tried to reassure her. "It was just…guy talk. But whatever it was, Sully more than likely had that punch coming."

Sarah swallowed, looking down at her painted toenails. From where she stood she could hear the hum of the motor from Sherriff Mill's truck. It was still parked in front of the diner.

"That bad?" she asked, glancing back up.

Henry winced, seeming to think back to the conversation held earlier in the diner. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"Wow."

"I'll talk with Sully," Henry promised. "He won't bother you anymore."

"He wasn't bothering me _before_. It was Sully being Sully. Henry-"Sarah hestitated, debating whether or not to ask the question. "Did I cause this?"

"No!" Henry's brown eyes widened. "Sarah, no. Look, Sully crosses lines and Shane has a temper. You mix the two and bad things are bound to happen. You just got caught in the middle this time."

Mulling it over, Sarah came to a decision and held up her pocketbook.

"You think Harper's Island P.D. takes AmEx?"

Breathing out on a laugh, Henry wrapped a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "I don't know. Does this mean we're going to find out?"

"Yes."

"So you're bailing out…?"

"Shane." Sarah's eyes tightened at the corners.

"Got it."

"_Only_ Shane. Sully can sit and enjoy the scenery courtesy of Harper's Island's finest."

"I'm not going to argue with you," Henry said mildly. "If anyone talked badly about Trish…It's probably a good idea anyway. One of them should stay a few extra hours to cool off."

"You'll be springing Sully, then?"

"I'll ask Malcolm or Danny to come get him."

Sticking both hands into his pockets, Henry started to walk with her through town and towards the station.

"It's funny," he remarked suddenly. Sarah turned to look at him, curious.

"What is?"

"Shane." Henry's voice was deceptively even as he elaborated. "He has a habit of coming to your rescue."

"Way to make me sound like a damsel in distress."

Sarah gave his arm a light punch.

"Ow. I didn't mean it like that," Henry chuckled, rubbing at the spot. "Just that…he seems to have a soft spot for you."

"Soft spot? Shane?" Putting the back of her hand against his forehead, Sarah feigned checking for a temperature. "Are you sure you didn't get hit in the head back there?"

"Come on." Henry's smile grew. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Noticed what?"

"He **likes **you." Noticing the quick flush that surged into her cheeks, Henry's smile became a bit more knowing. "And I guess that means you like him, too. Don't worry," he raised a placating hand. "I'm not going to say a word to Trish."

"There's nothing _to_ say, Henry." Sarah stopped to catch her breath. "Shane isn't like everyone thinks he is. Not completely anyway. I know he can be a pinhead, but he can also be a good guy."

"Yeah, well, like you said, not everyone thinks he is." Henry's dark eyes were thoughtful. "I worked with him for God knows how many summers. He's a real piece of work, Sarah. I don't doubt he _can_ be a nice guy, he just usually isn't. Don't let yourself get pulled into something you're going to regret," he cautioned.

"How could I possibly regret anything when we're **just** friends?"

"Me thinks you doth protest too much," Henry quipped, slanting his gaze towards her.

"Look…" Sarah turned around, taking backwards steps. "If it makes you feel better, I promise I won't get pulled into anything I'll regret."

"Good. Because sometimes…people…" his words were halting. "Even when you think you know them, they're not who you think they are."

Deciding to humor him, Sarah played along.

"And who do you think Shane really is, Henry?"

"I'm just saying, be careful with him. Temper aside, he does have a reputation."

"Oh, for the love of-_Henry_!" Sarah rolled her eyes, turning back around sharply. "Just because someone develops a Lancelot complex and dons some shining armor doesn't mean I'm going to jump them, okay? I'm not stupid."

Laughing at her outburst, Henry nodded. "I was more worried that he'd try to jump you, but okay. Got it." He nudged her with his shoulder. "You're like a sister to me, you know? I just want to make sure you're safe."

"Yes, well, one way might be to keep Sully in that cell for the rest of our vacation," Sarah suggested smartly, nudging him back. Henry's expression sobered as he nodded at the station up ahead.

"If Trish finds out what happened, it might be the safest place for him."

"Not my problem," Sarah decided.

"That's kind of harsh, isn't it?"

"Sorry, Henry. But I take people bad-mouthing me for no reason to heart." Sighing, Sarah pressed her clutch against her chest. "I won't make a big deal about this, and considering I'm in the dark about the details, I'm going to give Sully the benefit of the doubt this time. But in the interest of all those involved, just…suggest to him that he give me a little space for a few days."

"Not a problem." His eyes blinking in surprise, Henry motioned to the Sherriff's truck parked around the side of the tiny police station. "He got back here quickly."

"You don't think Shane and Sully started in on one another again?"

"I hope not."

Luck was with them when they entered. The police department was very quiet. Smiling benignly at them from behind the counter, a bottle-blonde peered over the top of her glasses at them.

"Can I help you?"

"I have it, Dottie."

Abby's father was just exiting the cell area. Khaki uniform wrinkled, he looked exhausted and worn down. He gestured for Henry and Sarah to step near one of the deputies desks, and took his hat off by the brim, setting it down.

"Henry, Sarah. I assume one of you wants to post bail?"

"I do." Sarah held up her wallet. "How much for one?"

"A hundred should do it."

Quickly getting out a credit card, the Sherriff snorted.

"You're not worried your Daddy will be upset to see a charge on your black card to the Harper's Island Police Department?"

"I'll tell him I made a charitable contribution," Sarah replied. "I think he'll be ok with that."

Face weary, he handed the card over to one of his younger deputies.

"Who do you want?"

"Shane, please."

Squinting his eyes shut, and rubbing them hard, the Sheriff shook his head. "I must be more tired than I thought. You want to bail out _who_?"

"Shane Pierce," Henry enunciated slowly. His eyes didn't blink as he tilted his head towards Sarah. "Her choice."

Looking dubious at their decision, the Sherriff spoke over his shoulder.

"Lillis, go get Shane from lock up."

"Yessir." Ambling around his small desk, the deputy walked a few steps to the back, unlocking the double doors with a key.

"Henry," the Sherriff handed Sarah her card back with a slip. "You want your friend?"

"No. I'll get him later."

"Suit yourself," he muttered, scratching the back of his head absently. He looked at Sarah a little wistfully. "It's good to see you back on the Island."

"It's been nice being here."

"You having a good time with your sister and Henry's friends?"

"Yes. It's been fun."

"What about you, Henry? Enjoying your summer?"

"Yep."

His answer was strangely curt, causing the Sherriff's brow to furrow. Regarding Sarah, she answered the unspoken question.

"He's a little upset that you sent Abby away."

Eyes focusing beyond her, perhaps on Henry, the Sherriff's shoulders dropped. It made him look, if possible, even more broken down.

"Yeah, well…he's not the only one." Offering a ghost of what used to be an enigmatic smile, he sighed. "Next time you talk to Abby, will you tell her I said hi?"

"I have her number with me," Sarah offered. "You could call her yourself."

"She doesn't want to hear from me," the Sherriff replied quietly. "Please?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

An awkward silence fell between them as they stood, waiting. Hands pressed against a desk as he leaned against it, Henry only moved forward when the deputy escorted Shane out of lock up.

He'd looked better.

"Now Shane," Sherriff Mills instructed coolly, indicating Henry and Sarah. "Besides making restitutions for the damage at Bitsy Mae's, I want you on your best behavior until their friends leave. Do we have an understanding?"

Signing his release forms, Shane snorted. "So I can be all big and bad ass once they're gone?"

"He'll behave," Sarah promised quickly upon seeing the storm clouds rolling across the Sherriff's face. "Let's go, Shane."

"Yes, dear."

Leaving through the glass door, they found Henry waiting for them by the curb. Making an exaggerated show of glancing around, Shane lifted his arms questioningly.

"Where's your boy, Henry?"

"Sitting in his cell for a while longer," Henry replied calmly. "Go home, Shane."

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked.

"To see if I need to do any damage control." Brown eyes locked with blue. "You'll be ok?"

"I'll be _fine_."

Stealing a look between the two across from him, Henry looked uncertain, but murmured a quick good-bye before heading towards the cottages.

"What was that about?" Shane demanded.

"You want to tell me what Sully said about me?" Sarah returned. When Shane's mouth snapped shut, she nodded. "All right then. You keep your personal conversations private, and I'll do the same."

Walking at a determined pace, Shane didn't have a hard time keeping up. But he was curious.

"Where are we going?"

"Jimmy has your truck, the boat is locked down, so we're going to your house so you can get cleaned up. Why?"

"My house is that way." Shane pointed off to the left, causing Sarah's eyebrows to fly up.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Tugging on her hand, Shane shook his head. "Let's go, Magellan."

The walk took less than three minutes, and as they approached the heavily wooded lot, Sarah couldn't help but ask why he lived so close to the police station.

"It's not because I spend so much time there," Shane replied dryly. "This just happens to be where my parents decided to build their house."

Having been there only a few times, Sarah couldn't help but notice how his home had fallen into disrepair since his parent's passing. The tan siding looked dingy, windows were cracked in a few places. The yard wasn't much better, but when it went unchecked, nature was what it was. Wild and unfettered.

Kind of like Shane.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"Nothing. You have a first-aid kit, right?"

"Sure do." Without using a key, Shane opened the door and held it, allowing Sarah inside. Heading to the kitchen, Shane flipped on the light as he rummaged around in the fridge.

Sarah entered the cozy room and took it all in. Hunting rifles and a crossbow were laid across a scarred kitchen table, but other than that, the house was pretty neat.

"Do you keep your first-aid kit in the refrigerator?"

"No." Pushing the door closed, he opened a long neck and held it against some swelling near his eye. "I keep my beer in my refrigerator. My kit, " he opened the back door, "is out here."

He headed towards a rusted Chevy by a large shed.

"You keep your first-air kit in a car?"

"No, I _left_ it in a car," Shane retorted. He reached into the passenger side and came out with a white, rectangular box. "Cut my hand something fierce last time I was working on it."

Standing with his beer in one hand, the kit in the other, Sarah couldn't help but smile at the contradiction he presented.

"All right, sit down before you hurt yourself further," she suggested firmly. "Nurse Wellington is going to patch you up."

"Now why didn't you tell me we were playing Doctor?" Shane asked in mock amazement, flashing his dimples. "Is this the part where you show me yours?"

"Absolutely not!" Sarah could feel her face heat up. "And unless you want me to get creative with the adhesive tape, scissors, and rubbing alcohol you won't be showing me yours either."

"You don't know what you're missing. Here good?" Shane had positioned himself on the open tailgate of another truck, legs swinging lazily off the side.

"It'll work."

Sarah approached, feeling unnerved when she realized she'd have to stand between his legs to best clean off his scrapes. And there he sat, watching her come to this realization, smirking.

He was enjoying this.

"Problem, sweetheart?"

It was the smug curve to his lips that gave her nerves the boost they needed.

"Not at all." Steadily meeting his eyes, she held out her hand. "Kit, please?"

Handing it over, Shane kept his eyes trained on Sarah as she began to pick through the boxes contents. Coming up with cotton balls and antiseptic, she set them aside and picked up a wet dishrag she'd grabbed from his kitchen.

"Sully got a few good hits in," she observed, dabbing at the worst of his wounds first-the cuts near his eye and mouth.

"I got a few good ones in, too, you know," Shane countered defensively.

Hiding her smile as male pride reared its head, Sarah nodded. "I know."

"You don't have to do this."

Shrugging as she poured some hydrogen peroxide onto a ball, Sarah smiled demurely. "It's the least I could do for the guy defending me. Besides, it feels a little familiar, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I remember. Scraped hands?"

"Scraped hands." Sarah confirmed, readying the cotton ball. "Funny how things turn around-"

"Christ!"

Shane grimaced when the antiseptic touched his open wounds.

"I'm sorry!" Sarah apologized hastily, dropping the wet piece of cotton. "This should help."

Leaning in, she blew against the cuts. The gentle warmth touching his skin made something uncoil inside of him, and looking at her askance, Shane decided that he liked this sort of attention from her. Immensely.

"Better?" Sarah asked, voice uncertain.

"Uh-huh."

"All right then. Back to cleaning."

Shane continued to study her as she drew closer once more.

"Huh."

"What?" She stopped inches from another cut.

"You have freckles." His index finger lifted to softly trace over a smattering near her jaw. "I didn't know that."

"That's what happens when you spend your early teenage years not wearing sunscreen," Sarah commented. "Lots and lots of tiny freckles."

A tingling sensation followed the path his fingers took as he continued slowly sweep them along her jawline and down her throat. She did her best to ignore it.

"They're cute."

"Thanks."

"Have them anywhere else?" Shane asked innocently, making Sarah start.

"That is none of your business."

"Hey!" Shane recoiled when Sarah poked his shoulder. "No hurting an already injured man."

"Then don't get fresh."

"You're a mean nurse," Shane grumbled, but remained quiet while she finished patching him up.

Stepping back to inspect Shane's face, she examined the familiar features. She took her time traveling from his crisp, blue eyes, a miraculously straight nose, down to his generous mouth . She wondered, not for the first time since returning, when he'd become so incredibly appealing.

"So what's the verdict?"

Shaken from her reverie, Sarah sighed to herself.

"You're gong to look a little rough for a few days, but otherwise, good."

"Good."

Smiling, Sarah started to clean up as Shane pushed off of the tailgate. He began walking towards his house, calling over his shoulder, "Be right back."

Picking up several items and tossing them into the garbage, Sarah brushed off her hands and walked beyond the cluttered yard. Taking in what lay behind some brush, she was amazed.

Shane's property was beautiful.

One of the many streams on the island ran along the back, quietly babbling as it flowed over rocks and fallen trees. Making her way carefully down a path, Sarah stopped in front of a small dock jutting out from the land. It was crude and roughly put together.

Maybe something a child had built?

"I made that when I was a kid." Shane's quiet confirmation came from behind her, catching Sarah off guard. "Dad helped me build it."

"It's breathtaking back here. Why haven't you cleared out all of that?" Her hands pointed up towards the dense shrubbery and tree lined area.

"Never felt like it," he replied.

As Sarah sat on a weathered down rock, she could see that Shane had changed out of his blood-stained shirt and cleaned himself up. His dark hair was damp, making it wavier than normal. He'd even grabbed a fresh beer. It hung limply from between his fingers.

Noticing where her eyes were focused, he tilted the chilled drink in her direction. "Want it? I can grab another."

"I'm eighteen, Shane."

"So, what, are being tea-totalers a Wellington thing?" His voice was skeptical as he sat down, swinging a leg around so she was in between them. "Or don't you ever break the rules?"

"I think being here with you easily qualifies as breaking the rules," Sarah responded archly. "Believe me, my family does not like me spending time with you."

"Then why do you?"

"Maybe I like you."

Her response was quiet, simple.

Already sitting behind her, Shane moved forward until his front pressed against her back.

It would have been pretty damned awkward if she'd pulled away, or worse, sat there stiff as a board.

But she didn't.

She leaned into him, her small frame molding itself perfectly against his taller one, head resting comfortably against his chest.

"You like me," Shane repeated. Fingers slowly weaving through her hair, he didn't need to see her face to know that she was smiling.

"Yes. I like you." Now Sarah sounded like she was laughing. "And you want to know something else?"

"What?"

She turned in his arms to look at him. This time, _she_ was the one looking smug.

"You like me, too."


	7. The End of Summer

_Disclaimer_: Same as previous chapters.

_Author's Note_: Thank you all for being so patient. With that last minute trip out of town and school starting back up, time has not been on my side. Thankfully, I have the next five chapters mapped out so it shouldn't take as long for the next few to be produced.

Cross your fingers!

In any case, we're that much closer to the actual events of the Harper's Island series. I think there are two more chapters and then , dun, dun, dunn. Literally.

So sit back this Sunday morning and enjoy!

**She Knew Him When . . .**

Considering the early hour, Trish looked a little _too_ perky.

Sarah was immediately on guard.

With all of her extra time spent with Shane, she'd been expecting her older sister to say something. It wouldn't have been out of character. But as the days, then weeks on the island passed, there had been nothing.

Zip. Zero. Zilch.

Trish had been understanding when she'd head out in the evenings, a sympathetic listener when Sarah wanted to talk. In regards to the island's surly fisherman, she'd been the spitting image of a supportive big sister.

This was what should have been the first indication that something was off.

But a girl could hope, right? Because Sarah knew the Wellington way of handling what their father called "unpleasant situations", and each of her sisters had their own method.

Shea, with her maternal, knowing ways would offer stern warnings and advice. "Dad won't approve, and I seriously doubt Mother would either." She'd always invoke the memory of their mother for greater impact. Then she would step back, expecting her instructions to be followed, and generally, they were. Shea was usually right, after all.

Trish, on the other hand…Trish would typically go out of her way to make sure her little sister knew **exactly** how she felt. She was less reserved than Shea-very emotive Her display of hostility could have been in the subtle wrinkle in her nose, the moue of distaste as she spoke around a particular subject.

Or, if she was feeling particularly peevish, she could be painfully blunt.

Like the time she told Sarah her make-up made her look like a rodeo clown. She'd only been 13 and experimenting at the time, but her words still hurt. In a kinder voice, Trish insisted that she was only looking out for her. She'd show her how to do it correctly.

And she had.

"_Sisters look out for one another." _Trish told her, deftly applying a light peach blush. _"We protect one another; steer them in a better direction-especially when it looks like one of them is getting ready to make a huge mistake."_

Then they laughed at the gobs of black mascara and lining Sarah was still wearing.

"_Huge mistake, no kidding! I look like a raccoon," _Sarah lamented between giggles. Hugging her fiercely, Trish shook her head and wiped around her eyes.

"_Maybe a little," _she admitted. _"But you're so beautiful. Just like Mother." _Her eyes misted over in tears that weren't related to their laughter and she'd sighed. "_I think that's why were all so protective of you. Daddy's never going to approve of any guy you bring home. You do realize that, don't you?"_

Rolling her eyes at the very thought, Sarah tossed a grimy tissue at her older sister.

"_He'll have to deal. I mean, he's okay with you seeing Henry, right? And he's not exactly a Richard Allen."_

"_We're not serious," _Trish replied flippantly. A little too flippantly. Brandishing a lip gloss wand she tapped her lips, grinning as if she knew what her little sister was thinking. _"But if we were, I wouldn't care. Henry's great, right?" _

"_Perfect," _Sarah nodded fervently.

Her agreement had her older sister turning in her seat. Placing the gloss onto the vanity, Trish took her younger sister's hands in hers.

"_Being in love is the most wonderful thing you'll ever experience. When you do find that right guy, Sarah, I want you to be as happy as Shea and Richard," _Trish said softly. _"And as happy as Henry and I will be one day."_

Seeing their reflections in the mirror beside them, Sarah observed the picture of radiance her older sister made. She knew Trish would never steer her wrong. She only wanted what was best for her.

In the years since she'd become a teenager, Trish, and sometimes Shea, would step in if they thought Sarah needed a gentle push in another direction. It wasn't interfering if they had her best interests at heart, Shea would state firmly.

"_She sounds like Daddy," _Trish huffed. _"Not interfering my ass."_

Of course, these words had been spoken about the time she and Henry _had_ become serious. Even if he'd never deny his daughter her happiness, their Father's feelings about that match were crystal clear,

Trish could be just as manipulative as their Father when it came to people she didn't like.

And she _definitely_ didn't like Shane.

Which once again lead Sarah to feel suspicious about her sister's motives that morning. Clutching a light jacket to her side, she smiled at the sight waiting for her.

"Hey!" Trish's hair was bouncing as she hopped from foot to foot.

"You wouldn't be so cold if you'd worn something a bit more weather appropriate," Sarah returned.

Absently touching the fabric of her linen dress, Trish shrugged.

"Henry likes this on me." She hooked her arm through her sister's. "I can bear the cold for him."

"Ugh." Sarah stuck out her tongue, making Trish laugh through her shivers. "You are such a-"

"Woman in love," her sister supplied brightly. "Anything else you have to say will remain silent."

"Or?"

"Or else."

"Or else, _what_?" Sarah asked.

"Or else you won't get the surprise I got for you!"

Trish looked so excited, Sarah felt the alarms in the back of her head ring with growing intensity.

"Besides, you know what being in love is all about," Trish added casually.

Taken aback by her words, Sarah's mind went suddenly blank.

"What?"

"Don't play coy. We're sisters. Now 'fess up!" Trish's voice was sly, as was her smile.

"I…I never said I was in love."

"You're not in love with Shane?"

"We spend time together," Sarah managed. "That's all."

"That's _all_?"

"Would you please stop repeating everything I say? We like one another. I told you that already. But there's nothing going on."

Trish's lips puffed out, clearly doubtful.

"I just assumed with all the time you're spending, together and all of those really late nights-"

"I'm not sleeping with him, Trish," Sarah interrupted sharply. Stopping in her tracks, she yanked her arm from her sister's. "God. Is _that_ what this early morning walk is all about? You want some tasty gossip?"

"Of course not!" Clasping her hands together tightly, Trish's expression was one of apology. "I didn't mean for our talk to take this direction. Really. I didn't."

Believing she'd overreacted, Sarah mentally she turned off the warning sirens.

"No, I'm sorry . You just surprised me when you said that."

"That you were in love with Shane?" Trish's voice was calm. "I guess I was just thinking back to when Henry and I _just_ liked one another and there was _nothing_ going on."

"I'm not hiding anything," Sarah quietly insisted. "We've always been honest with one another, haven't we?"

"I'd like to think so."

"So why would you think I'd hide our relationship from you?"

"You _do_ have a relationship, then?"

Trish really jumped on that one.

"I didn't mean-no." Sarah felt completely unprepared for this line of questioning and it showed. "_No_. We're…friends."

Trish arched an eyebrow skeptically. It had sounded pretty weak.

"I don't have friends that look at me the way Shane looks at you."

Her words made Sarah smile a little.

"You haven't been watching Sully, have you?"

"Oh, that doesn't count. He's not my friend." Trish smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Thank _God_ he's Henry's. Besides, he'll hit on anything with two legs and a skirt."

"So I've seen."

Resuming their walk, their arms linked once more as the ground changed beneath their feet. Sand and rock became concrete as they began heading down a street dotted with homes and small businesses.

"If there was something going on, you could tell me," Trish blurted out suddenly. "You could do so much better. We _all_ know it. But if the two of you were together, and you were happy, I wouldn't say anything to Daddy."

Wondering what it would take to convince her sister she was telling the truth, Sarah focused on the attractive facades of several homes instead of answering . It helped to stifle her annoyance.

"You know that, right?"

She sounded so imploring that Sarah had to nod, her own dark curls swinging with the motion.

"I do."

"Good." Then taking a deep breath, Trish squeezed her arm. She quickly pulled her sister to a stop beside her. "Well, we're here. Look!"

Peering at the small stone cottage, Sarah turned to her sister, confused.

"I'm looking, Trish. I just don't know what you expect me to see."

"Karena Fox," Trish spoke softly as she inched closer. "Shea went to her before she married Richard. It was a bridesmaids thing," she said off-handedly. "You weren't old enough to come that weekend."

"Oh, right. So she came to see this Karena-?"

"Fox," Trish supplied hastily. "She came to see her because supposedly she's a real psychic."

Groaning, Sarah pulled away.

"Are you joking? You know I don't buy into that sort of nonsense."

"But it could be fun!"

"At six in the morning?" Sarah asked incredulously. "Trish, I could be having much more fun bed. Not _that_ kind," she sighed, seeing the scandalized look her sister threw her. "I meant sleep."

"Sure you did."

"Not everyone is like you and Henry, you know."

"Mmm. They just wish they were." Trish grinned., then clapped her hands together several times. "Look, here's the deal. You go get your fortune read, and I'll drop all the relationship talk. How does that sound?"

Happy to accept any deal that involved her sister moving away from the current topic, Sarah agreed.

"Fine. I'll go. She's probably expecting me anyway."

Trish smiled a tad guiltily. "Maybe…"

"I do love a good ambush," Sarah muttered, but headed towards the small home.

Walking on a pathway lined with tiny flowers, she absently wondered just what this psychic would look like; what tricks she'd play. Her thoughts took her to some amusing places, but all were dashed when a kind, older woman with bright blonde locks opened the door.

She wasn't at all what Sarah had expected.

"Why, hello there. I've been expecting you." Greeting Sarah with a generous smile, Karena Fox stepped back over the threshold. "Come on in! It's biting out there this morning."

"Um, yes. It is."

"Let me take your jacket." Moving towards her, she took the offered item and sighed. "Now this is a nice one. Bergdorf's always has the best sales."

Sarah must have looked surprised, because a trail of tinkling laughter followed Karena as she entered a tiny closet.

"Oh no. I'm not a mind reader, but I do love the internet!" Sticking her face back out, there was an impish smile dancing around the blonde's lips.

Expelling a soft laugh, Sarah walked after her when she motioned to follow.

"I've never done this before," she said, taking in the heavily windowed room they were entering. There was light everywhere, despite the morning fog. It even bounced off of the necklace the psychic was wearing.

"No?"

Karena's question seemed more rhetorical than anything, but she looked up from the colorful scarf she was unraveling. She seemed to be waiting for something, and allowed a small smile when Sarah elaborated.

"I don't believe in psychics."

"Something I'm certain your sister already knew," Karena remarked mildly. Her eyes lit on the pack of cards before her and she held out a hand. "Please, sit."

Taking her place in an overstuffed chair, Sarah crossed one leg over the other and leaned back. Her blue eyes fell on the deck of cards uneasily.

"Do we…light incense or chant now?"

"Incense and chanting?" Karena's soft laugh filled the room. "Not at all. I'll simply pick a few cards and tell you what I see."

"That's it?"

Karena nodded. "That's it."

Feeling a little more comfortable, Sarah smiled. Maybe Trish was right. This could be fun.

"All right. Does that mean we start now?"

"In a moment. First," Karena re-covered the cards, and held up her index finger. "Business."

"Business? Oh!" Quickly reaching into a small clutch, she pulled out her wallet. "Payment, of course. How much do I owe you?"

"Not a thing." Karena waved the money off with a quick shake of her head. "Your sister already paid me. By business I mean it's time for me to be honest with you."

A frown marred Sarah's delicate features.

"I don't understand."

Several wisps of blonde hair flew upwards as the psychic blew out some air.

"Don't be angry with her, but your sister paid me to deliver a fairly specific fortune."

"She did?"

The warning bells were beginning to ring again.

"I told her that isn't how I work. My cards tell me the story and I interpret what I see." Karena frowned, her hands tracing around the perimeter of the cards. "I' don't believe in making up tales. The world is filled with enough charlatans as it is."

"May I-" Sarah looked away from the hypnotic movements and down at her own hands. "May I ask what she told you to tell me?"

She could feel sympathetic eyes as Karena nodded.

"You can. But I think you already know."

And there it was. Suspicions confirmed.

Biting her lower lip hard, Sarah could barely conceal her frustration with Trish. It was one thing for her to interfere, but to drag another person into it? Unbelievable.

"Shane. Or more specifically something to warn me away from him?"

"Young Mister Pierce." The psychic was nodding in agreement when Sarah looked up. Her expression was one of fondness. "I've watched him grow up-knew his mother very well, in fact. She was a lovely woman."

"And?"

"He's an angry young man," Karena sighed. "Bitter, and a little confused, perhaps. But who isn't these days?"

"So in your opinion-"

"I have no opinion." Waving her hands as if to clear the air, more blonde hair fell around her face. "Oh, allright. He is not a bad person. Rough around the edges, certainly. But not bad."

Then she smiled.

"And he has a very good heart, if the right person is willing to see it."

A flush crept into her cheeks and Sarah licked her lips, rubbing over the sore spot from where she bit it.

"I know."

"_I_ know," Karena returned, winking.

"Oh?" Sarah felt a laugh threatening to escape. "Did you see that in your cards?"

"Oh no, dear. With my eyes." Karena taped her fingers to either side of her head. "It's a very small island. The two of you have been seen together maybe once or twice."

"I see."

"But enough idle chit chat. Your sister did pay me for a reading, so why not have a legitimate one?"

Quickly warming up to the island psychic, Sarah leaned forward with a smile.

"I'd like that."

"You should know I don't do Celtic Cross or any standard practice that other card readers adhere to. I choose ten cards and I do it my own way-it seems to work best. Is that fine?"

"I don't know much about card readings, so sure. Whatever works best for you."

"All-righty then!" Flinging the scarf back off of the cards, Karena ran her hands over them a few times then let them hover. Laying her left atop the first card, she looked askance, asking Sarah, "Anything specific?"

"No," she replied softly, shaking her head. "Whatever you…see."

"Still a disbeliever, hmm?" Karena's mouth quirked. "I'll see what I can do."

Quickly flipping over the first card, Sarah felt the damning blush return as a naked man and woman stared up at her, their bodies entwined in an intimate act.

The Lovers.

"Well," Karena cleared her throat. "That's a little more than I needed to know, but not too much of a surprise."

"We're not-I mean, Shane and I aren't-"

"It doesn't necessarily mean you and Mister Pierce," the psychic said evenly. Her eyebrows rose when she saw the flicker of disappointment. "You did say no specifics."

"Of course."

Taking the next card in the stack and placing it upside down next to the first, Karena's expression looked troubled.

"What?" Sarah asked quickly.

"I thought you didn't believe in psychics," the older woman remarked. Her voice was gentle, though, taking any sting from the words. "It's nothing wrong really, only… unexpected."

A red fingernail tapped against one card, then the next as both women viewed them.

"The Wheel of Fortune," Karena murmured. "And The Empress. Your life is going to take an abrupt turn in the next few years. One I hope you are strong enough to handle."

She flipped the next card, and relief was visible on her aged features. "Strength. You'll manage just fine. That's good. Very good."

"What will I manage?" Sarah whispered.

"It won't be easy." The psychic looked weary again as she slowly turned over the next card.

Sitting on a throne made of bones and death rested a winged devil. It's pitiless orbs seemed to be staring straight at Sarah.

"You will despair." Karena shut her eyes against the image. "It will be hard to accept, many will fight you on it, but you must not give up."

The next card flipped. The Fool.

"A new phase in your life. Unexpected, but a blessing."

The Hermit.

"Despite the machinations of others, you will find support and they will help you along the way."

The Star.

"Hope. It surrounds you and you must believe in it."

The Moon.

"You will face your despair in time, but if you hold tight onto that hope, upon your return you will overcome these difficulties together."

"What?" Sarah demanded, unaware that she was on the edge of her seat. "What despair? What difficulties will I overcome? With _who_?"

But Karena continued to draw the final card, her hand freezing in mid-air.

"Miss Fox?" Sarah asked softly. The psychic seemed oddly calm as she placed the card back down.

"I'm sorry, but I can't finish your reading today, Miss Wellington."

"What?" Blinking out of her stupor, Sarah was surprised to find her hands were shaking. "Why not? There was only one card left."

"I'm so very sorry." The psychic clasped her hands together contritely. "I must have ordered a faulty batch of cards. You see?"

Holding up the next card, Sarah realized it was blank. Completely and utterly devoid of color and image.

"I can't see anything if nothing is there."

"Oh." Sarah wiped her hands against the seat of her chair, feeling strangely upended. "Was it real, what you saw?"

"I only interpret what the cards show me, and since it was not specifically aimed towards anything, there is only so much I could tell you."

"But was it **real**?"

"Only if you choose it to be. What can I say?" Karena turned to hand Sarah a teacup with steaming liquid. She had no idea where it had come from, but she was grateful for it. "Many believe the cards, or psychics in general, lead people into self-fulfilling prophecies."

"You mean, because you say it, they interpret it according to how their lives are going?"

"Exactly." Sitting down on a pillowy ottoman next to her, Karena patted her hand reassuringly. "It doesn't necessarily mean anything. Not unless you really want it to."

"That makes me feel a bit better. I was getting worried. " Letting out a nervous laugh, Sarah sipped the drink, instantly warmed by it. "This is delicious. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, dear." The psychic seemed to be studying her very carefully as she continued to drink. A hand idly stroked the blue jewel hanging around her neck when she spoke. "It's no wonder you first captured his affections. You really do look so much like your mother. My, my. Just breathtaking."

Glancing up sharply, Karena smiled kindly at Sarah's reaction. "Yes, I knew her, too. She was a warm, strong woman. I see much of her in you. And your sisters." She laughed. "You three must be a handful for your father."

"We try."

Laughter mingling, the two women glossed over light topics as Karena seemed concerned Sarah would dwell too much on the reading. It wasn't until she noticed the time that the older woman stood with a cry of surprise.

"Would you look at that? We've been chatting nearly over an hour. Your sister must be half-frozen by now."

Lips turning into a frown at the thought of her older sister, Sarah reassured the older woman. "With the fury that's about to come down on her, she'll warm up in no time."

"Oh, no. Don't do that." Karena's voice was filled with concern. "Sister's do unthinkable things at times, and I know it doesn't excuse it, but when we love, sometimes we do things we ordinarily wouldn't to protect one another."

"But-"

"Trust me." Karena's smile was bittersweet as she glanced at a photo on the mantle. It was of two young girls. "I had a sister once. I'm sure you could find a better way to express yourself than with harsh words."

Inhaling through her nose, Sarah had to force herself to calm down. Despite her feelings, she knew the older woman was right. She would simply have to find another way to give her sister tit for tat.

"Thank you, Karena. For everything," she added, sincerely glad that they had met.

The two women embraced, waving to one another as Sarah stepped back out into the chilly Harper's Island fog.

Trish stood where Sarah had left her. She was shivering more than she had been earlier, a fact that made Sarah smile a little spitefully.

"So?" Trish was breathless. "What did she say?"

She was anticipating her reaction, Sarah realized. Her sister was fully prepared for her to deliver the psychic's warnings concerning Shane. No doubt she'd be dutiful and comforting. As a loving sister would be, Sarah thought bitterly.

"It was all unexpected," she began slowly. Trish's hands went to cup her elbow's, concern written perfectly across her pale face.

"Oh no. That doesn't sound good. What did she tell you?"

And then it came to her. Like magic.

The perfect revenge.

Her face melting into an expression of pure bliss, Sarah sighed happily.

"I'm going to be Mrs. Shane Pierce. Isn't that the best?"

Pretending to not see her sister's jaw drop or her eyes bug out, Sarah spun on her toes, fairly skipping her way back down the path they'd walked earlier.

Karena had been right. She felt much better, and she hadn't needed to use hurtful words even once. Because while she could no longer see her older sister, she most definitely heard her.

"She told you _**WHAT**_?!?"

Oh, yes. Revenge was sweet.

************************************************************************

"I hear the ferry's taking a big group of people back today."

Barely glancing at his friend over the rim of his coffee cup, Shane swallowed the hot liquid.

"Bunch of Swells," he muttered.

"Uh-huh." Jimmy poured some cream into his own cup. "Think you might miss any of them?"

This time Shane's head tilted in his direction.

"You've **really** got to work on that subtlety thing, Jimmy."

"Not too good, huh?"

He was grinning while he poured sugar into his cup.

"About as subtle as a jackhammer on concrete." Shane shook his head. "If you've got something you want to ask, spit it out."

"Ok, ok." Caffeinated or not, Jimmy was as easygoing as always. He stole a glance at Shane as he picked up a stick of honey. "You gonna miss her?"

"Miss who?"

"Come on. Don't play dumb, Shane."

Reluctantly, the taller man nodded. "It'll be a little less interesting."

"That's it?" Jimmy's scoffed. "'It'll be a little less interesting'?"

Shrugging, Shane tore the stick open with his teeth then slowly began to stir it into his drink.

"What? You want me to say something else?"

"Ah, _yeah_." Jimmy hit his shoulder lightly. "When you spend most of your free time with a girl-and when that girl's Sarah? Then, yeah, I think you'd say something else."

"Like what?"

Jimmy put a lid over his coffee, lifting his shoulders uncertainly.

"I don't know. You like her, you spend your time with her…" A small smile ghosted across his lips. "You've _always _had a thing for her, man. Admit it. After these last few weeks, I thought you'd be gloating."

"Nothing to gloat about."

He was being unusually reticent, and being that Shane was Shane, he usually liked to talk. It was one of the things he did best. He didn't tend to have tight lips when it came to girlfriends or current flames.

His behavior was pricking at Jimmy's curiosity intensely, making him wonder.

"You're playing this pretty close to the vest for a summer fling," he observed, trying to sound casual.

"There wasn't any fling," Shane replied sharply. "We just hung out."

"Uh-huh."

Jimmy was grinning broadly, and it grated on Shane's patience.

"Look, man, believe what you want. Nothing happened, we just spent some time together."

"You're getting pretty defensive."

Placing the coffee on the hood of his truck, Shane eyed his supposed friend.

"And you're starting to piss me off."

"I'm just saying-"

"Nothing. You're saying _nothing_. It's none of your damn business, Jimmy, so drop it."

Swinging his door open with more force than necessary, Shane grabbed his coffee and got behind the wheel. Then with another surge of temper, slammed the door closed behind him.

Jimmy didn't bother to hide his amusement when he climbed into the cab. He wasn't taking Shane's mood personally; he knew it wasn't aimed at him. Sliding into his seat nice and easy, he leaned back, nursing his hot beverage.

Shane pretended to not notice, fiddling with a new metal CD he'd ordered online instead.

The smug grin he could handle. Hell, he could even take the light taps against the window. But when Jimmy began to whistle, that was it.

"**What**?" he snapped, and Jimmy burst into laughter.

"You have it bad, man," he said, wiping at the corner of his eyes with a knuckle. "_Real_ bad."

"Yeah, well…" Shane seemed strangely flustered as the CD slipped through his fingers and into the console below. "Damnit!"

Thankfully Jimmy's laughter dwindled as he collected himself. He drank more of his coffee, looking out of the windshield as Shane rubbed at his nose-a nervous habit.

He placed his hands on the wheel, flexing his fingers around the grip.

"Look," he began in a low voice. "Whatever…whatever me and Sarah have going on, it's personal." His eyes shot in Jimmy's direction. "Okay?"

Jimmy nodded in understanding. "Sure, man. I wasn't trying to pry."

"Could've fooled me," Shane grumbled.

Fishing the CD from between the seats he blew off any excess dust and slid it into the player. But the radio remained quiet, and the truck sat, stalled in the driveway. His hands were back to gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Mind if I make a personal observation, though?"

Jimmy broke the silence and with it, the mounting tension.

"Sure, man. Whatever."

He sounded as if he could care less, but Jimmy could hear the strain in Shane's voice as he avoided looking at him. He knew where this mood was coming from.

"You've always been soft on her. Sarah," he clarified. "You're protective, spend a lot of time with her-"

"Tell me something I don't know. What's your point?" Shane interrupted. His blue eyes were still focused in front of them.

"My point is it's okay to care about her." Jimmy waited, getting no response. "She doesn't have to be some summer thing, Shane. If you want it to, it could be more."

Still nothing.

"I'm not saying it would be easy. Realistically, it probably wouldn't be. But at least you'd know you were trying. I know if me and Abby-" he stopped at the slip of his tongue.

Jimmy waited for Shane's ridicule at bringing Abby up, but when he said nothing, forged ahead.

"I know you think I'm an idiot for holding out hope, but that's what it's about. When you care that much about someone, it's worth waiting for. Or in your case, worth taking a chance on. Sarah's special, man. She's worth it."

Shane licked his lips, finally breaking his stare as he glanced around.

"Yeah. I know she's worth it." He cleared his throat, his words coming out slowly. "I like being with her. I don't exactly get my jollies hanging around her sister and those idiots Henry brought to the island, but she's happy so…" A rise and fall of broad shoulders. "I want her to be happy."

It was as simple as that. Jimmy clasped him on the shoulder in a brotherly way.

"Welcome to the world of healthy relationships, my friend. When you put the other persons happiness first, even if it comes at your expense."

Shane shook his head.

"Healthy blows."

"It can."

"Yeah. Not all the time, though. Mostly, it's been…nice. Real nice."

Without looking at his friend, Jimmy made his next remark cautiously.

"If I could make another personal observation then?"

"Might as well."

"It sounds a lot more than just 'like' to me."

Silence filled the cab. Then- "Well, maybe it is."

Jimmy blinked. He hadn't expected Shane to agree with him so quickly.

"Wow. Okay. Um, I don't know what to say."

"Finally," Shane muttered.

"Seriously though? You mean it?"

Shifting in his seat awkwardly, Shane grunted.

"You're no longer the only idiot in the truck, Jimmy. I know it's stupid. We're not exactly from the same social circle. Hell, we're not even living on the same planet."

"I think it's pretty obvious that Sarah doesn't care about your pedigree," Jimmy drawled. It earned him a small smirk. "And so what? You know their Dad isn't crazy about Henry, but there he is."

"Only 'cause Trish wants him around. I don't think Daddy Warbucks will be loosing any sleep when she dumps him."

"_If_ she dumps him," Jimmy shot back. "But I don't think she will. I think they're the real deal."

Shane fell silent again, a muscle working overtime in his jaw as his fingers began to tap an impatient rhythm against the leather of the wheel.

"D'you think Sarah would stick by me if her old man and sisters put the screws to her?"

Stunned by the question, Jimmy swallowed the last of his coffee and set the cup aside.

"If you need to ask, then I don't think you've been on the same island the rest of us have been on."

Shane's eyes narrowed at the comment.

"Yeah, I know. She told me what Trish, thinks. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the rest of her family."

"Okay, then."

"Okay then, what?"

"That leaves you with two options," Jimmy said. He held up his index and middle fingers. "One, you let it go and things stay the way they are. You don't have to worry about her family. Or two…"

"Two?"

"Jump in with both feet, Shane, and don't look back."

************************************************************************

The morning moved at a snail's pace. Jimmy chatted amiably with a few fishermen working on their boats, while Shane moved about in his own routine. But with the fog thickening and the cold settling in, even they left for warmer places, abandoning work until the afternoon.

It left the marina quiet and Shane bored.

Only the ferry was operating, and at the moment it was just sitting there, empty.

Taunting him.

He'd been looking up and down the dock so often Jimmy was starting to get that annoyingly smug grin again. But around eleven he went off to grab more coffee for his thermos, and it left Shane completely alone.

He didn't see the point in doing much else so he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. His eyes were fixed at the entrance to the marina.

It wasn't long before he saw her. Down the dock, the most perfect pair of legs were headed towards him. Attached to those lovely limbs was possibly the prettiest girl he'd ever laid eyes on-and in twenty two years he'd certainly seen his share.

There was no girl who could possibly compare to Sarah Wellington, and acknowledging that fact made Shane more than a little uncomfortable. He'd never counted on getting too serious with a girl. Maybe somewhere down the line-_way_ down the line-just not at this point in his life.

But like he'd already told Jimmy, he really liked her. He cared for her. And she was worth it.

"Hi, there."

Taking his time to stand, Shane smiled broadly, showing his dimples.

"Hey. Looking for someone?"

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Sarah pulled on the end of a dark curl.

"Maybe. He's about your height, blue eyes, brown hair. Works on a boat."

"Good-looking guy?"

"Very."

Sarah's eyes danced mischievously. Tugging off his hat, Shane pointed to the top of his head.

"Well, I have brown hair, and I've got the blue eyes. Heck, I've even heard I'm a looker."

"And you work on a boat."

Pretending to just notice this fact, Shane snapped his fingers.

"Well what d'ya know? I _do_ work on a boat." Advancing towards her with slow steps, Shane stepped onto the dock. He spread his arms out in front of him, allowing her an examination. "Will I do?"

The minute he stepped in front of her, Sarah was reminded of the things about him she'd been noticing more of over the summer. Things that made her mind go dizzy and her heart race. Like how he walked, how he talked. How he'd touch her carefully, and how he smelled; faintly of aftershave, Dial soap, and man.

And then there was his smile. It was all dimples and warmth-a devastating combination.

Trish was right to be concerned because, God, was she in trouble.

"You'll do just fine," she whispered.

Shane's smile was knowing.

"You okay there, sweetheart?" His hand reached out to push some of her hair back. A roughened fingertip brushed against her throat.

"Yes." Sarah felt the heat rise against his touch and shivered. But it wasn't due to the cold morning. She looked down. "I don't do good-bye's very well."

"Who does? They suck."

Shane was gently stroking her cheek with his fingers, then nudged her under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Sarah felt awkward and unsure, until she saw the laughter in his eyes.

"Don't get sappy on me. It's not like it's going to be forever, you know."

"I know." Sarah wrinkled up her nose, trying to keep a level head. "It's not that. I wanted…I wanted to tell you…"

"What?"

"I'm glad I came back this summer, that we worked things out."

"Me, too. Look, Sarah, " Shane took a deep breath, readying himself to take that leap.

But then he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say. He wasn't sensitive or good with words like Jimmy, and his brain was scrambling to find something to say-anything.

Only one thing sprang to mind.

The one thing he wouldn't admit to his friend earlier that morning.

"I'm really going to miss you."

He spoke each word slowly. They felt right, he decided. They were honest.

And they sparked a reaction he hadn't expected.

Closing the distance between them and grabbing his shirt, Sarah pressed her smaller body fully against his and kissed him.

It took Shane only a moment to respond, and though she may have been the one to initiate it, he quickly took control. Cupping the sides of her face with his hands, he took his time coaxing a response, a thumb brushing the underside of her lower lip as he kissed back.

She tasted like mint. Her mouth was soft and warm and sweet-everything she was and more. And when her lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss, Shane knew he was a goner.

Because it was better than any first kiss had a right to be.

It was perfect.

It went on and on until Sarah's fingers were gripping Shane's shoulders, and his had traveled down to her hips, holding her flush against him. They were both breathing heavily when he lifted his head.

"I'll miss you, too," Sarah whispered breathlessly. Their noses lightly bumped against one another as Shane brushed another kiss across her lips, chuckling. He started to speak, but was stopped mid-action when he felt pressure against the palm of his hand.

"You'd better call me." Sarah's smile was almost shy. "I'm not waiting until next summer to see you."

A grin played at the corner of his lips as Shane looked down. A small piece of pink paper rested in his left hand, carefully folded up. Already knowing what it was, he held it up between his thumb and index finger, nodding.

"That's good. 'Cause as you know, I do work on a boat." Another flash of dimples. "If I have to haul ass down there to drag you off the mainland, I will."

"Well, then." Sarah leaned back in for a kiss, murmuring against his lips, "Don't keep me waiting."

"_Sarah_!"

Turning her head at the sound of her sister's voice, the youngest Wellington wasn't at all surprised to see the sour expression on Trish's face. Henry was already walking past, pointedly staring ahead as he and his friends boarded the ferry. Sully looked back only once, disgusted.

Squeezing his hand gently, Sarah took a step back from Shane. She could feel the heat from his sigh as she moved away.

"Bye," she whispered, smiling even as Trish grabbed her by the arm and ushered her towards the larger boat.

"Hey, Sarah?"

Stopping at the ramp leading aboard, she turned to see Shane's solitary figure in the middle of the fog. For someone who could intimidate as well as look intimidating, she'd never seen a more welcoming sight.

"I'll see you soon."


	8. Snapshots: Sarah Age 19, Shane Age 22

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

Authors Note: I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. It was one of my favorites to write. I feel obligated to put a warning up, though.

**This chapter has a fairly mature scene towards the end. I didn't change the rating as it's not too explicit, but it's still very obvious as to what's going on. If you object to this sort of material, please feel free to gloss over it and continue to the final part of this chapter. Otherwise, sit back, relax, read, and enjoy. I know Shane and Sarah did ;)**

**She Knew Him When…**

**September**

"Babe, I swear to God if that rat comes in here one more time, I'm gonna barbeque it along with these ribs."

Smothering a laugh at Shane's exasperation, Sarah gently pushed the tiny terrier that had been hovering at his feet through another door.

"Sorry about Gigi. But you're fixing food and Lucy brings her everywhere she goes."

Shane was clearly baffled.

"_Why_?"

"Because Gigi is people."

Walking into the kitchen, Trish opened a stainless steel wine-cooler beneath the counter and pulled out a bottle. "Or so Lucy claims."

"You're joking."

Letting a tiny smile slip, Trish shook her head. "Not even a little. Sar, can you bring the potatoes out when you're done?"

"Yep. I just have to fold in the cheese before popping them back into the skins."

"Sounds good." Turning from the kitchen door to wave to a new arrival, Trish bounced towards the sound of the growing outdoor party.

"Small barbecue for eight?" Shane arched an eyebrow .

"They're a loud eight," Sarah replied dryly. Putting down the spatula, she began counting off. "Let's see…Us, Henry and Trish, Lucy-"

"And Gigi?"

He was smirking.

"Ah, no. She's not included on the list."

"Of course not. How silly of me."

Jumping as he walked by to pinch her bottom, Shane's smirk broadened. "So who else?"

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Sarah began spooning the potato mix.

"Malcolm's in town for some sort of meeting-"

"Henry's friend?"

"Yes."

"The fat guy."

"He's only a little big."

"The fat guy," Shane repeated slowly. Rolling her eyes at his indelicacy, Sarah sighed.

"Yes, Shane. The fat guy."

"Well that makes six since he just got here." He used some tongs to pull aside a curtain, contemplating the group of people laughing and drinking. "So who's the seventh and eighth?"

"Danny's local so he'll be here in a bit."

"Just don't tell me he's bringing that dickhead friend of his."

"Wait, you mean to tell me you _don't_ like Sully?" Sarah placed a hand to her chest, feigning surprise.

"Naw. Him and me?" Shane linked his fingers together, shaking them. "We're tight-best buds."

"While your dislike of him is completely understandable, Chris Sullivan is currently _persona non grata_ at Wellington gatherings. He's not coming, so there's nothing to worry about."

Sarah kissed the cleft in his chin as she passed by.

"I'm not worried." Looking offended by the suggestion, Shane crossed his arms and leaned against a counter. "But if it's not him, who's the eighth?"

"Henry didn't say, and it was his invite." Sarah moved back towards the small kitchen island, looking around. "Shane, did you see where I put the corkscrew?"

"Your sister took it two trips ago."

"Which is why I can't find it," Sarah muttered to herself. Then looking up at her boyfriend, beamed. "Thanks."

"Yeah. So, hey, can I tell you something?"

"Absolutely."

"You," he pointed the tongs at her, "look _really_ hot when you're being domestic."

Bursting into laughter while he went to collect a beer, Sarah waved the potato covered spatula in his direction.

"You think I'm hot _now_? Just wait, honey. You'll think I'm scorching when I start vacuuming after everyone leaves tonight."

"Oooh." Shane waggled his eyebrows at her, lips curving up wickedly as he raised his drink. "Sounds dirty."

"Hey!"

Henry stuck his head through the door, wine cooler in hand. Judging by his bright eyes and too broad smile, he wasn't on his first drink.

"Hey back." Sarah wiped her hands on a towel. "Everything all right out there?"

"Yeah, great! I just wanted to know if we were going to barbecue tonight."

"Maybe."

Shane's deliberate attempt at being obtuse went straight over Henry's head. It was a sure sign the alcohol had taken him to a very happy place.

"Behave." Smiling, Sarah pushed his chest lightly, then handed Henry the potatoes. "We'll be out in a few. Tell Trish?"

"Yes m'am!"

Saluting her with the hand holding his drink, Henry headed back out, calling to Trish as he staggered across the yard with the tray. Sarah prayed he wouldn't drop it.

"Is he already wasted?"

"If he isn't, he's definitely on the way there," Sarah replied.

"On wine coolers?" Shane snorted, unimpressed. "The guy's a cheap drunk-and believe me, I've seen my share."

"That may be, but he's also the reason Trish isn't busting your chops."

Shane mumbled to himself as he went to grab the platter of uncooked ribs and chicken.

"I can handle your sister."

"I know you can, but this isn't about handling people, Shane. I just want it to be a nice evening."

"Whatever you want, babe. I'm just here to see you."

Sarah touched his hand before he could pick up the food. She knew the weekend was far out of his comfort zone, and hoped she wasn't asking too much of him too soon.

"Thank you for coming up this weekend."

"Like I was going to say no," Shane scoffed, then reflected on the people he'd _voluntarily_ agreed to spend time with. There had been plenty of reasons to be tempted.

"I'm glad you didn't."

Sarah's smile was tender.

"Yeah. Me, too." Brushing several strands of hair from her face, Shane tipped his face down, murmuring against her lips. "I just can't say no to you."

Sarah laughed breathily into the kiss.

"I'm going to have to remember that."

Chuckling, Shane went to deepen their embrace, but the slamming of the back door against the kitchen wall startled them apart.

"Whoa. Now this is way too weird."

"J.D.!" Sending Shane a warning look, Sarah gave an awkward wave. "I had no idea you were coming."

"I wasn't sure I was coming," he replied. Pale blue eyes moved from her to Shane. They glittered meanly. "I thought Henry was joking when he said Shane was here."

"Far as I can see there's only one joke in this room," Shane growled.

"You know what?" Sarah moved carefully between the two men. "I need some extra hands. J.D., could you carry this out for me?"

"Sure." Grabbing the tray of condiments, he smirked at Shane before heading back out.

"That kid's gotten a hell of a lot creepier since I last saw him."

"And he's been through a lot," Sarah reminded him, pausing. "I know you and J.D. have some problems, but could you put them on hold tonight for me?"

For her, he did.

There was an obvious strain between them, but Shane kept his distance by manning the grill while J.D. stayed on the fringe of the group, glowering silently at everyone. Dressed in black and pale as death, he was hard to miss. It made it easy for Shane to avoid him. Not only did it keep his girl happy, but he was also able brandish the skewers and tongs if anyone got on his nerves.

And amazingly, other than J.D., no one really did.

The rest of the evening went pretty well. He had a few snickers at Henry's expense as he stumbled around into people. He even had some laughs with some of the others-mostly with Danny, best friend to the dickhead. He was pretty easygoing; quick to laugh or smile.

He reminded him of Jimmy.

Sarah didn't hover; letting him do his own thing without having to mingle. Considering this wasn't really his scene, he appreciated that. But he was glad when she slid her hands into his, or gave him a kiss when caught in a conversation. He liked having her near him.

There had been a few times when he'd been tempted to throw a few pieces of raw meat-skewers and all-at J.D.. Henry was blitzed enough to not notice if he had. Thing was, Shane felt pretty certain he'd just eat it. J.D. was just freakish enough to do it. So he restrained himself.

The party rolled to a stop around eleven, when Malcolm and Danny had to help Trish carry Henry to the car. J.D. seemed happy enough to watch from the sidewalk. He didn't offer to help.

"Do you need anything?" Sarah asked her sister. Shaking her head, Trish lifted a hand in a helpless gesture.

"No. I don't know what's gotten into him. This isn't like Henry."

"He talked to Abby today."

J.D. spoke up for the first time since arriving. His ghostly face showing no discernable emotion. It was perfectly blank.

"He seemed upset after that."

Sharing a quick look with her sister, Trish hurried towards her car. "I see."

Shane sauntered out, leaning in the doorway, a dishtowel draped over his shoulder. He placed a hand on Sarah's arm.

"You need to make sure they're okay?"

"Yeah." Her fingers touched his lightly. "Give me a moment."

Brushing past Lucy and Gigi, Sarah grabbed Trish's elbow before she could slide behind the wheel.

"Let me know when you get home?"

Turning to hug her younger sister, Trish placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Promise."

"And if you need anything-"

"I'll call." Shooing her away with both hands, Trish smiled with some reluctance. "Go on, Sarah, I can handle this. Besides, I think someone's waiting for you."

Glancing over the roof of the car, Shane was still leaning in the front door, arms crossed. Much of his face was shadowed by the porch lights, but she could feel him watching carefully. Sarah felt a smile forming. His head tipped back; she could almost see the soft curve of his lips. He made such a tempting sight.

Distantly, she heard Trish sigh.

"-lost cause."

Turning back to her sister, Sarah blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing." Trish slid into her car, turning it on. "I'll let you know when we get back to the loft. Danny and Malcolm are going to follow us back-help get Henry upstairs."

"Sounds good," Sarah nodded, taking one last glance at Henry. He seemed to be unaware of anything at that moment. "Drive safely."

"Always."

Saying good-bye to the rest of her guests, Sarah walked up the steps to where Shane was waiting. His blue eyes were curious as he held out a hand.

"Your sister going to be okay?"

Looking where Trish had parked, Sarah turned back and placed her hands in his.

"Yeah. She said everything would be all right. Apparently Henry talked with Abby today, and it put in him a mood."

His expression darkening fleetingly, Shane grunted. "She has that affect on people."

Pushing him back over the threshold gently, Sarah closed the front door.

"She doesn't have to have that affect on us."

Thinking about the suggestion, Shane only needed a moment to nudge her back against the closed entrance, leaning into her with his body. Tossing the towel to the floor his arms circled Sarah's waist as he dipped his head down.

Sarah murmured quietly when his mouth closed over hers. Shane broke the kiss briefly, mouth turned up in his typical smirk when she protested.

"But what about the vacuuming?"

Smacking his arm lightly, Sarah laughed as she pulled his head back down to hers, kissing him deeply.

"Later," she purred. "Much, much later."

**December**

There was a reason the ferry ran only a few times during the winter. Besides the freezing temperatures and falling snow, the water was vicious. It even looked angry. Black and grey, crested with frothy white caps, people who went into this kind of water didn't tend to come back out.

Sarah was huddled inside the tiny cabin as she looked outside its single window. It was bleak. Everything looked so dreary, completely unlike the cheerfully lit Seattle skyline she'd left behind half an hour earlier.

But she'd promised Shane she'd make this trip, and truth be told, she'd missed him terribly. She'd gladly weather the rough seas to see him. Voice mails, phone calls, and the occasional email just weren't enough.

"Arriving at Harper's Island in five minutes."

The booming voice of the man steering the boat caused Sarah to squint towards the horizon. Or what she _thought _was the horizon..

Five minutes? Was he joking? She couldn't see a thing in front of her yet he knew the Island was a few short miles away?

Sarah concentrated very hard as she tried to see the outline of the island, but she just couldn't do it. Turning her back to the window, she sighed, closing her eyes. To her, visibility had become all but zero. Why keep them open? It was as if the island had simply vanished.

"You gonna stand there all day and sleep? Or are you getting' off, Miss?"

Sarah's eyes flew back open.

"What?" Looking over her shoulder, the familiar, though very white dock of Harper's Island lay before them. Sarah hadn't even realized the ferry was no longer moving. "We've stopped."

"Uh, yeah." The driver gave her an odd look, then opened the door, gesturing for her to get a move on. "You stayin' or goin'?"

"Going, thanks!"

Gathering up her leather tote and a small case, Sarah pulled the hood to her coat up and started down the ramp towards the docks. It was eerie. Her footfalls were the only sound she could make out. But with the winter storms headed their way, taking the trawlers out were out of the question. The marina was dead, void of all activity.

Not the best news for those who made their lively hood from it, but it was just another part of weathering the seasons on an island.

"Looking good, mainlander."

Turning unsteadily on the heavily powdered dock, Sarah's face lit up in delight.

"What are you doing here?" She jumped into Shane's arms unceremoniously, pressing fervent kisses across his bearded face. "You're not supposed to be working."

"Are you kidding? Work in this?" He laughed, taking a look at the near blizzard conditions. "Not a chance. I had to grab some things from the wheel house. Figured I'd wait 'til I came to pick you up."

Sarah rewarded him with another round of kisses.

"It's still such a nice surprise."

"Yeah, well, you didn't really think I was going to let you hike all the way to the lot by yourself did you?"

"We never discussed it on the phone."

"Didn't need to." Pressing his lips against hers firmly, Shane smirked. "Besides, you'd never make it with all the crap you probably brought with you."

"I'll have you know I only brought one bag and my violin case, thank you very much."

Underneath his wool cap, Shane's eyebrows lifted as he inspected the small tote on the dock.

"You managed to fit all of your girly stuff into that?"

"I packed light," Sarah replied defensively. "I have everything I need."

Mouth parting in a slow grin, Shane chuckled. "I'm sure you do. Ready to get some place warmer?"

Jumping up and down in the cold, Sarah nodded.

"Yes, yes, and _oh, God yes_."

"You're turning me on, woman." Shane chided as he leaned down to pick up her things. "Stop it."

Laughing into his arm as they headed towards his truck, Sarah sighed happily.

"I've missed you so much."

His free arm swung around her back, pulling her closer. "Me, too, babe. More than you know."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. I'm not the only one, either." At Sarah's inquiring look, he shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Let's get home. You'll find out."

************************************************************************

"It all happens here: good friends, good times-"

"And good food!" Nikki cheered, interrupting Jimmy. Her nose ring winked at them as she shook out her wet hair. "I've got eats people."

"Finally," Shane groaned. He rubbed his stomach for show. "We're starving and you took for freaking **ever**."

"Please." Nikki handed Jimmy the bags as she shimmied out of her snow-covered jacket. "_You_ try to get Bitsy Mae to rush an order on the night we're forecasted to loose all power."

"Is that what the weatherman said?"

Jimmy stopped inspecting their boxes of food.

"That's why every other person was stocking up on whatever's available," Nikki confirmed. Then making a face at Shane, added, "You could have helped if you were so concerned, y'know."

"Nah." Shane grinned around the mouth of his coffee mug. "That's women's work."

Squinting his eyes shut at what was bound to follow, Jimmy wasn't the least bit surprised when Nikki hauled back and socked him in the back. Hard.

"Jackass."

Sarah frowned at her boyfriend, but began rubbing the sore spot from Nikki's punch.

"That was pretty insensitive."

"Says the girl who's daddy claims she's getting a degree in being a housewife."

"He did not!" Nikki's mouth formed a bright pink "o" as she sat across from the couple. She didn't even look at the plates as she scooted them around the table.

"Yes, well, he doesn't seem to think becoming a career violinist is an actual career."

"He's heard you play right?" Jimmy sipped from his glass slowly. "He's got to know how good you are."

"He thinks it's a hobby," Shane explained, sliding a protective arm around Sarah's shoulders. "Thinks she should go into the family business."

"Which I'd rather gouge my eyes out than do," Sarah finished. "And he knows that. I don't think he heard the part where I'd be playing full-time with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra. It's not a big deal, though. He'll come around eventually. Daddy always does."

"It's still a jerk thing to say," Nikki groused.

"Thanks, Nik."

"Uh, hey?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"I pretty much said the same thing." Shane glanced at his girlfriend pointedly. "So how come you got bent out of shape when it came out of _my_ mouth?"

"Because the word you used wasn't 'jerk', and you said several other unflattering things as well," she reminded him patiently. Drinking from his mug again, Shane nodded slowly.

"Oh, yeah. That's right." He smirked. "I did, didn't I?"

"He's so proud of himself," Jimmy chuckled, walking behind his friend to pat his head. Shane's hands came up to bat at him.

"Stop it, man. I'm not five."

Jimmy was still laughing.

"Sorry. But sometimes it's really hard to tell." Gesturing to the small kitchen with his head, he turned to Sarah. "Give me a hand?"

"Absolutely."

Glancing out of the den windows they went into the kitchen, Jimmy called over his shoulder. "Kelly's here."

Expelling a long-suffering sigh, Shane's head fell back over the top of the chair.

"Why the hell did you invite her, Nikki?"

"Because she's always on her own and could use the company." Eyes narrowing, she placed her hands on her hips. "I know she can be a little strange-"

Shane snorted.

"A little?"

"-but she's sweet." Nikki finished. "Try and remember to be a human being while she's here, and stop being such a hypocrite."

Shane's head shot back up.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, so you _aren't _the guy who used to date Kelly?" Nikki's jaw jutted forward as her temper flared. "I don't get how she was good enough to be with a few years ago, but now you can't be bothered to spend an evening with her."

"Okay, one," Shane held up a finger," we didn't date. We hooked up a few times, it wasn't anything serious. And two, all that was before she turned into a total nutjob."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Shane was ready to fire back, but the sound of several voices had him snapping his mouth shut.

"Hey, everyone." Jimmy's smile was warm as he ushered in a timid looking girl. "Look who's here."

"Hey," she mumbled. Her eyes darted up and around before her hands, fingernails chewed to the quick, began to tug on the ends of her dark hair.

"Hey, Kel." Nikki's boots clomped on the floor as she hurried to her side. "Come and sit."

"Thanks." Taking off a black over coat, Kelly gave Shane a tentative smile. In turn, his mouth turned up, tight and obviously forced. She looked away quickly as Sarah re-entered the room.

"Have you met Sarah?"

Nikki pointed to her left.

"I don't think so."

"Actually, I think we did." Sarah gave Kelly a friendly smile. "You made those paintings at the bazaar last summer, right? The oil and acrylics."

Kelly's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, that was me. You…You remember them?" She asked shyly. "I mean, I know I'm not very good, but-"

"No, they were great. A little dark, but great."

"I see dark things," Kelly explained, tugging a little harder on the ends of her hair.

"And I see dead people." Shane's chair scraped against the hardwoods as he pushed back his chair, mug in hand. "I'm getting a drink."

"Shane-"

"It's okay." Kelly's hands fell to the table, clamping together tightly. "I'm used to it."

Nikki's mouth pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to Sarah.

"So, um, do you work at The Cannery with Nikki?"

"I help out at several places," Kelly replied vaguely. "I'm not sure what I want to do."

Nikki patted her arm.

"Girl, you're young. You don't have to figure that kind of stuff out now."

"I guess."

"You know…" Sarah tilted her head sideways, looking at Kelly's hair carefully in the light. "Feel free to tell me if I'm imagining it, but do you have red and purple in your hair?"

"You noticed?" This time Kelly's smile warmed up a fraction. "I just did it this morning."

"Wow! You did color it again, didn't you? Looks good!" Nikki grinned enthusiastically. "Much better than the purple by itself."

"Yeah?" Settling in, Kelly's smile relaxed even more, exposing even, white teeth. "I wasn't sure. But when I added the red it started to look pretty good." Her eyes were plaintive as she looked between the two girls. "It does look all right, doesn't it?"

"Abso-posa-lutely," Nikki said, her voice knowledgeable. "This color mix suits you so much better than just the one. Sarah, what d'you think?"

"It's very nice," Sarah remarked. "What color was your hair before you dyed it?"

"Blonde." Nikki and Kelly replied in unison.

It caused the girls to break into a fit of giggles.

"Now there's a nice sound."

Jimmy's arms were loaded up with several plates. Shane was right behind him, drinks and silverware in hand.

"Care to share the funny?"

"You had to be here," Sarah said, rolling into another fit as Kelly tugged on some of Nikki's wild, blonde curls.

Shane and Jimmy exchanged bewildered looks.

"Chicks, man, it's their world. We're just living in it."

Grinning at his friend's words, Jimmy had to nod in agreement.

"Amen to that."

Settling into their meal, the group of five bantered back and forth as the snow began to fall harder. Kelly's spirits continued to rise throughout the evening, though she seemed more comfortable to hang back in her seat and listen.

The local station continued to give weather updates, and by the way static was cutting into the broadcast, the power wasn't going to last much longer.

If that wasn't enough of an indication, the lights had been flickering for the at least an hour, the last time dimming for almost a full five minutes. As he was a cautious person, Jimmy suggested they start wrapping things up for the night.

"I'll make sure you girls get home safe," he promised Kelly and Nikki.

Sarah had helped clear the table and was scraping food into a bag, but paused a moment to look through the windows above the sink. Winter really was beautiful on Harper's Island. The snow and ice had painted a soothing canvas of white on every available surface. Nothing stirred.

Earlier she'd thought about how different it was from the city. She'd considered it bleak, and unfriendly. Now more refreshed and able to really study her surroundings, Sarah had to admit she'd been wrong.

Harper's was quiet, peaceful; a little haven away from the rest of the world.

"You we're a friend of Abby's, too, right?"

Jumping at the sound of Kelly's voice, Sarah turned around to see the pale-skinned girl watching her intently.

"Yes. We still talk now and then."

Kelly's eyes were unfocused as she looked over Sarah's shoulder and out the window.

"Did you see something outside?"

"What?" Turning back to her winter wonderland, Sarah laughed a little. "Oh, no. I was just enjoying how peaceful it is here. It's much different from the city."

"It's not always peaceful."

Kelly's voice trembled.

"He's out there, you know."

The smile on Sarah's face froze. "Uh…_who's_ out there?"

"John Wakefield. He killed my mom."

Sarah swallowed. "I didn't know. I'm so-"

"Just like he killed Abby's." Her eyes gained sudden intensity as they refocused on her. "Her name was Sarah, too."

"Ok, that's it." Storming into the kitchen, Shane looked furious. "Freak show's over. Get out!"

"Ease up, man." Coming up behind him, Jimmy jumped between his friend and the quavering girl, putting a hand against Shane's chest. "She didn't mean anything by it."

"I care." Pointing over his shoulder at Kelly, Shane spoke through clenched teeth. "Get her our of my house. Now."

Kelly's eyes filled up. "I didn't mean-I'm sorry."

She burst into tears and ran from the room. Nikki barely managed to avoid being knocked down.

"What happened?"

Sarah moved forward quickly, grabbing Shane's arm.

"Calm down. Please."

But he ignored her.

"You wanna know what happened? Your friend went looney tunes on Sarah," Shane snapped. "That's what happened. Making all kinds of weird talk about Wakefield."

Face clouding over, Nikki grabbed her coat from the back of a chair.

"I'd better make sure she's okay." Zipping up, she gave Sarah a regretful smile. "Sorry if she upset you. She doesn't mean it."

"It's all right."

"No, Sarah, it's _not_ all right,." Shane retorted. "I told you inviting her was bad news. Don't ever bring her back here, Nikki."

Shooting a contemptuous look back at him, the blonde flipped up her middle finger.

"You couldn't be decent person for more than a few hours, could you?"

Flinging the side door open, she marched out into the snow to find Kelly, Sarah right behind her. Jimmy gave him a light pat on the shoulder as he reached for his jacket.

"You were pretty harsh, man."

Shane shook his head stubbornly.

"What she said was out of line."

Flipping his collar up, Jimmy sighed tiredly and pulled down his wool cap. "Yeah, I know. But Kelly, you know how she's been. She didn't mean any harm. And if you had taken five seconds to think about that instead of flipping out, you would've seen that Sarah knew it, too."

Swinging the truck keys around his finger, Jimmy opened the side door, peering outside. The cold swept through the room, making both men wince.

"Looks like the girls are ready to go. I'll see you later?"

Shane nodded, crossing his arms to ward off the cold.

"Stay warm."

"Yeah, you, too," Shane mumbled. He ran his hands over his face a few times then joined his friend as he walked outside. Standing next to Sarah, he called out, his voice echoing through the trees. "Drive safe."

Without turning around, Jimmy waved, quickly climbing into his truck. The engine rumbled to life and soon the three passengers were headed into the snowy night.

"Come on." Shane gently pulled Sarah back into the warmth of his house. They headed back into the kitchen, both of them silent as they finished picking up.

Wiping her hands on a faded towel, Sarah's eyebrows drew together in consternation.

"I thought John Wakefield was dead."

Shane's head dropped to his chest. "He _is_. Abby's dad killed him."

"Then why-"

"Because she's messed up, thinks she sees him on the island still. I don't know." He rubbed his jaw hard, trying to mask his frustration. "Maybe the Sherriff was right to send Abby away, because Kelly? When her mom was killed, she stayed, and something inside her broke. Hasn't been right since."

Sarah continued to frown at the dishcloth. Moving behind her, Shane placed both hands on her shoulders and rested his head atop hers, sighing heavily.

"Look, I'm sorry I lost my temper. It just freaked me out."

"What freaked you out?"

There was a long stretch of silence following the question. It seemed to take a few minutes for Shane's thoughts to come together.

"Sometimes I think back to that day, you know, of The Rampage. If I'd been even a few seconds later finding you at Murphy's Shed, Wakefield would've…" There was a tense pause, his voice gruff when he continued. "You wouldn't be here right now."

Sarah's head lifted slightly, indicating that she was listening.

"And when Kelly said you and Abby's mom had the same name-"

"I understand," Sarah said softly.

"It made what could've happened seem more real. Like there could've been two Sarah's in that tree instead of one."

Turning under his hands, Sarah eased back against the sink.

"I don't think about what happened here a lot; I can almost forget. That's the luxury of living off the island, I guess. Not having to face it every day."

"Like we do."

"Like you do," Sarah agreed quietly. "Some people have just handled it better than others."

"Kelly's always been a little fragile," Shane admitted. Something akin to shame glinted in his eyes. "Even back in school she wasn't all there. But Wakefield didn't help things, and neither did staying here."

"No. They didn't."

"Being around her freaks me out, because that's how she talks all the time. People just want to move on, forget Wakefield ever happened." He lifted his head to meet Sarah's gaze. "I know it's a shitty excuse, but she won't let the guy die. Maybe she'd get a little better if she did."

"Do you really believe that?"

Shaking his head, Shane slid his hands down Sarah's arms.

"I don't know. And right now, I don't care either. I just want to forget the last few minutes ever happened."

"So would I."

Swinging their hands, Shane pulled them up to his lips.

"Forgive me?"

Nodding, Sarah buried her head under his chin, shivering as her eyes took in the winter landscape through the windows. Once more she was struck by how quiet and desolate winter made the island.

But it didn't have the same charm it had earlier.

Shame.

**Late February**

"_God_!"

Gasping out loud, Sarah's head fell back onto the sheets, her body arching away from them as Shane's grip tightened around her waist.

Winter on Harper's Island was like any deep winter in the North: cold and isolating. But for those who were fortunate to have a working fireplace and plenty of warm blankets, waking up on those snowy days weren't so bad..

At that moment not even the blankets were necessary.

Moving together slowly, Shane's lips left a wet trail of kisses up Sarah's throat as she continued to whimper beneath him. He hadn't stopped touching her since they'd woken that morning, something Sarah didn't mind a bit. She happened to love the way he touched her.

She loved the way he loved her; intensely, passionately.

He didn't hold anything back, so neither did she.

"Sarah…" His moan was hot against her ear, muscles tensing briefly as her nails raked a slow, deliberate path down his back. "Sarah."

They fit together so perfectly.

It didn't seem to matter that she was slender and small, or that he was taller, broader in every respect. When their bodies came together it was like two missing pieces of a puzzle; their lines and curves melted together to create a seamless picture of wanton desire.

His hand brushed over the curve of her hip, running along the silken plane of skin and up. Burying it in the damp curls at the nape of her neck, he grabbed them, gently easing her head back further. It exposed her throat to him, leaving it and the rest of her completely vulnerable to him.

"Tell me you'll always be mine," he whispered hoarsely. Her body was forced that much closer to his, pulling him deeper into her; the contact caused him to groan deeply. "Sarah…"

His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, then moved to the pale flesh beneath it.. He buried his head into her shoulder, eyes closed, stubble brushing against Sarah's already sensitized skin. Her body tightened around his, and he swore.

"Please. Tell me."

His mouth moved just above hers, hovering; brushing kisses light enough for her to feel, but not nearly close enough for her to deepen.

Each measured, languid movement brought them closer, their breathing quicker.

"Shane," Sarah whispered.

Her eyes were feverish when he managed to open his again.

"I will always," she ran her hands over his shoulders, "be", kissed his lips softly, "yours."

And he fell, Sarah not far behind him.

Despite the heat from the fireplace, Shane could feel himself shaking.

Or was that Sarah?

At that moment his mind was too hazy to figure out which one of them was doing what. All he could be completely sure of was the utter contentedness he felt. It swept over him as he clung to her, and she to him.

Shane didn't want to let go, wasn't ready to, so he rolled them over, trying to get some control over himself. Once on his back, and Sarah's head was nestled beneath his chin, he breathed deeply, relaxing.

Moving his head just so, he could see her face; half-lidded eyes, sated smile. And she glowed. From the top of her head to the tips of her fingers and toes, Sarah glowed.

Beautiful.

He made a content sound, his mind sluggish as it caught up to the fact that she was doing something...Oh, that was nice. Her fingers were making sweeping motions along his chest. They were soft, lazy movements. Very soothing.

Following them with drowsy eyes, he felt his body calm further beneath hers. He watched her slender fingers as they sketched their way up, then down, Up, down. Up, down.

Shane pressed a kiss to the top of her head he closed his eyes, marveling a little at the situation.

Sarah was amazing.

And she was with him.

He smiled faintly, sinking a little further into his daze; lulled by the rhythmic motions of her sweeping fingers.

Sometimes he had a hard time believing they were together. They were so different. She was Seattle royalty: high-class, well-traveled, well-educated. He, on the other hand, stopped his education after high school. He worked on the island he'd probably die on, lived in a tiny home, and earned his living as a fisherman. It wasn't that he was ashamed of any of that. He wasn't.

It was just a very unlikely match.

Yet here they were. What had started out as a tentative "we'll see where it goes" kind of thing, had developed into something much deeper. This fact hadn't crept up on him, but he was still trying to come to grips with it. Because damned if he knew when it happened, but somewhere in the past seven months he'd had fallen in love with Sarah Wellington.

He loved her.

So now what? He wondered drowsily. What did he say? What was he supposed to do? Was he even the one who was supposed to do anything?

There were no answers, however. Shane didn't figure it out that evening. His thoughts ended there, drifting off with his consciousness as he fell into sleep.

"Shane?"

Lifting her head from his chest when he didn't respond, Sarah smiled endearingly. He seemed to be fast asleep-or if he wasn't, close to it. He was completely at ease, his face peaceful.

Deciding that what she'd been itching to tell him could wait, Sarah eased closer, pulling the sheets around their bodies. Leaning forward, she placed a delicate kiss to his mouth, tracing the generous lines with a finger before settling back down into his arms.

Hearing the chimes from the clock in the living room, her lips turned up briefly as she whispered the words to her sleeping boyfriend.

"Happy Birthday, Shane."

**May**

"Tell her about the tattoo."

Shea's navy eyes widened dramatically, turning on her youngest sister.

"You have a tattoo?"

"Thanks, Trish." Sarah sent her older sister a withering glare. "Yes, Shea, I have a tattoo."

Her normally smooth forehead wrinkled, perhaps pondering the very idea of this sort of body art.

"Why?"

"He offered and I wanted one." Sarah shrugged, taking a sip of her iced tea.

"What's it of?"

A bright purple crayon hovering over a coloring book, Sarah's niece, Madison Allen, looked on with keen interest.

"Madison, it's not important," Shea said firmly. "Go back to your coloring." Waiting until her daughter was engrossed in her activity once more, she leaned over to her youngest sibling. "Sarah, does that man even have a license to run that sort of business? Were the needles even clean?"

"'That man' has a name, Shea. It's Shane, and I wish you'd stop acting as if he were some sort of derelict," Sarah said tightly. "Of course he has a license. And yes, the needles were sterilized."

"You just can't tell with some people," Shea said by way of explanation.

"He's a fisherman and he makes extra money with a side job." Sarah was trying to keep her voice even. "Even if you don't approve, it's an honest living. Certainly there's nothing wrong with that."

"Of course there's not," Trish said quickly. "I thought it was interesting."

"You think tattoo's are interesting?" Shea took a delicate sip of wine, shaking her head. "Since when?"

"I thought about it once or twice."

Her confession earned stunned looks from both her sisters.

"When Henry and I were together I thought about getting his name put right here." Trish pointed to a spot above her hip. She smiled a little sadly. "Henry Bear. I guess it's a good thing I didn't, right?"

"I still can't believe you two broke up," Sarah sighed. "You were perfect for one another."

"Hunter's a good catch," Shea offered, trying to be reassuring. "He's handsome, has good connections-"

"He's a complete control freak," Sarah argued. Tossing her dark curls over her shoulder, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Who cares about having the right connections?"

"Obviously you don't," Shea retorted. "If you had any sense at all you'd end things before they go too far."

"Too late," Trish sing-songed, holding her napkin over her mouth to cover her smirk.

Shea looked between her younger sisters with penetrating blue eyes. Her hand gripped Sarah's tightly.

"Tell me you're not sleeping with him."

"If you make one crack about protection I am walking out of here," Sarah threatened in a low voice. "I mean it, Shea."

Inhaling deeply, the eldest Wellington daughter focused on the silverware by her left hand. Her fingers absently fiddled with their placement; straightening them to her liking.

"I suppose it would be a waste of time to tell you he's only after one thing."

"He's not like that," Sarah snapped. Madison, startled by her aunt's frosty tone, looked up.

"What are you talking about?"

"Madison, honey." Shea turned to her daughter, smoothing her hair back with one hand. "Why don't you see if the geese are back in the pond. I'll call you when your lunch arrives."

A petulant frown touched the five-year old's face.

"You never let me hear _anything_," she pouted as she walked away.

"Shane doesn't want my money."

Spinning back in her seat, Shea crossed her arms at the wrists. "Are you so sure? Does he know about your trust?"

"No!" Sarah was completely affronted by the question. "We don't talk about money."

"Shea, ease up," Trish said quietly. "He's not that bad."

Turning her gaze on her middle sister, Shea frowned. "You were his biggest detractor. What on earth made you change you opinion?"

"He makes Sarah happy."

"Happiness won't pay the bills or for your children's education," Shea bit out. Pointing a well-manicured finger at her younger sister, she offered a warning. "If Dad finds out this has gotten serious, you know he'll step in."

"And do what?" Sarah demanded. "The trust was written by Mother. It was her money. Daddy can't do a thing."

"Don't be ridiculous," Shea huffed. Judging by the way she touched the French knot atop her head, she was trying to remain cool. "He wouldn't leave you destitute. It's not about the money."

"What's it about then?"

"Look, can we talk about something else?" Shea suddenly seemed tired. Putting a hand to her cheek, she looked flustered as the waiters approached with their meals.

It was a Saturday luncheon the sister's took when they could. They usually spent the time catching up and enjoying light-hearted conversation. Unfortunately, there had been nothing light about their meal so far.

Not that the average eye would have noticed. All they would have seen were the three Wellington sisters; all with dark hair, fair skin, and dressed in shades of varying blues. Beautiful, wealthy, and for most, completely out of reach.

"Thank you," Sarah murmured as her plate was set in front of her. But her appetite was gone. Suddenly the lobster ravioli didn't seem quite as delicious as it had on the menu.

Shea and Trish thanked their waiters as well, each placing their napkin into their lap as they prepared to dine. Yet none picked up their utensils.

Feeling guilty for causing the upset, Trish made an attempt to salvage what was left of their meal with another remark she hoped was taken as humorous.

"Ask her what they were doing when he gave her the tattoo."

"_Trish_!"

Sarah nearly choked on her drink when her sister spoke up again.

"What?" Shea's mouth opened and closed a few times. She didn't seem to know what to say. "You don't mean-no. _No_!" She looked at the telling blush on her youngest sister's face and leaned back into her chair. "How is that even possible?"

Touching the corner of her lips with her napkin, Sarah offered what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. "Shane is a very talented man."

Eyes wide with apparent curiosity, Shea opened her mouth to say something else, then seemed to decide against it as she cut into her seared tuna. She chewed on it, swallowed, then took a sip from her glass.

"I see. So…what kind of tattoo did he give you?"

Stunned, but also pleased that her sister was at least trying, Sarah smiled. "A little crown."

Shea's eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand."

"Sarah means 'princess'," Trish explained, having heard the details already. "I think it was kind of sweet."

"Hmmm." Cutting into her fish again, Shea seemed to relax a bit more. "And where is it? Somewhere discreet, I hope."

"Ah, yes." Sarah's lips turned up at the corners impishly. "It's very discreet. I can assure you that no one-"

"Except Shane," Trish piped up.

"Except Shane," Sarah agreed, "will ever see it."

"Really!" Leaning onto the table with her elbows, Shea considered the options. "Your back?"

"No."

"Hip?"

"No. And you could see it when I wore a swimsuit if it were there."

"Not if it were high enough," Shea said smoothly. "Stomach?"

"No."

Trish was delighted as she watched their very refined older sister play a guessing game involving tattoo's. It was certainly unexpected. But then, she and Sarah were very good at getting their elder sister to loosen up.

"I'd ask if it were your bottom, but-"

"No bottom's," Sarah laughed. "No. Not there."

"Well, then." Shea threw her hands up, sighing in defeat. "Where is it?"

Leaning over the finely pressed tablecloth, Sarah whispered to her sister. "Inner thigh. All the way up."

"All the way…up?" Shea shifted in her seat, pulling on the collar of her dress.

"Mm-hmm."

Sarah took a very satisfying sip of her drink, watching as her oldest sister digested that bit of information.

"Someone looks hot and bothered," Trish remarked smugly. "Is all this talk of tattoo's making you think about paying Richard an afternoon visit at the club?"

"Trish, don't be crude," Shea ordered, but her eyes cast themselves in another direction. "It's just an unexpected place for a tattoo."

"It is," Sarah said. Thinking back to the night Shane had applied it, she wrinkled her nose. "It hurt a bit, too."

"Did it?" Shea winced sympathetically.

"I'm pretty sure lover boy kissed and made it better."

"Trish!" Both sisters turned on her in disbelief.

"What?" She took a bite of her salad, fork poised over the bowl. "He didn't?"

Another flush flew into Sarah's cheeks. "That's not the point."

"What is then?"

Trish looked so serious, and the conversation was taking such a wild turn, that Sarah had to laugh. Covering her mouth to prevent it from getting louder, she failed miserably when Trish, then Shea joined in. Grasping her sister's hands, Shea looked at them with great affection.

"I'm sorry," she said, catching her breath. Meeting Sarah's eyes, Shea's voice gentled considerably. "My mind still sees you as my four year old baby sister."

"I know it does."

"It's hard for both of us to see you growing up, having a serious relationship…" Trish bit her lip. "But you have my support. He makes you happy and I want that for you so much."

"So do I," Shea nodded, shelving her earlier arguments. "He's not who I'd want for you and Dad-"

"To hell with what Daddy thinks," Trish muttered. Shea's eyes flickered in her direction. "Forget it. I'll get Madison."

"Thank you," she said softly.

Sarah watched Trish walk outdoors to summon their niece. Her walk didn't have the same carefree gait it used to, and those days her smile was strained. She wasn't happy.

"She misses Henry."

"Well, maybe it's for the best," Shea murmured. "There's nothing wrong with seeing what else is out there."

Sarah's tone was waspish.

"Did Daddy tell you to say that?"

Hurt glimmered in her sister's eyes. "No, Sarah. He didn't. I'm saying it because I am older and I have been there. I love you and Trish. If I could help either of you to avoid any of the pain that comes from a relationship, I would."

Shea's smile was watery.

"I would do it in a heartbeat."

Sarah was silent.

"Will you please hear me out?"

Nodding once, Sarah knew she at least owed it to her sister to be heard.

"Dad won't like your relationship with this man," Shea said, finishing her earlier thoughts firmly. Waiting to make sure she had Sarah's attention fully, she closed most of the space between them. "Do you understand why? He, _Shane_, will never be anything more than a small-time fisherman on a very small island."

"I know that," Sarah replied.

"Would you be able to live like that?" Shea's eyebrows rose in question. "Small town living, the same thing day in and day out?"

"Shea-"

"You'd be content with him-with that life."

"Shea." Sarah said slowly. "I love him."

The quiet conviction in her voice gave Shea pause. She looked hard at her youngest sibling, searching for something. Shea must have been satisfied with what she found, because, gently, her hands clasped themselves around Sarah's. It was a loving, sisterly gesture.

"I believe you. Just be careful."

"I am."

"I didn't mean 'careful' in that respect," Shea smiled. "I meant be careful with your heart. You only have the one, and it's a _good_ one. I'd hate to see it broken."

Hugging her sister tightly, Sarah felt giddy at her sisters acceptance.

"Don't worry, Shea," she whispered. "Shane would never do anything to hurt me."


End file.
